


One Times Ten

by PumpkinPantaloons



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Bad Touch Chancellor, Bondage, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Gangbang, Heavy use of 'Your Majesty' as an insult, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort gone terribly wrong, M/M, MT sex, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Brotherhood, Mentions of Kingsglaive, No one is happy and everyone dies, Noctis has a bad life. Repeatedly, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Physical Abuse, Spoilers, The bros try really hard to help Noctis through his crazy magic bullshit, Torture, all the divergences, like that's the whole point, omen!Noct
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 73,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10047785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinPantaloons/pseuds/PumpkinPantaloons
Summary: Bahamut doesn't take ten years, it just takes ten tries for Noctis to get it right."Enter into Reflection, that the Light of Providence shine within."His  memory was infected with incoherent strips of time, swells of foreign emotions. Shame. Disgust. Blood on a white dress. The taste of the sea. The feel of leather, choking. Cool fingers on his cheek. A heavy hand on his shoulder accompanied by his father's worn smile. Ignis' scared face behind dark glasses. His father's sword piercing his chest.These weren’t his memories. This wasn’t Reflection, it was torture. He had done this before.YOU WILL DO IT AGAIN





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me for having to be the one to write this garbage. I couldn't talk anyone else into doing it for me /o/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis cherishes the precious things

“Hey Noct, what’s wrong?” Prompto nudged Noctis’ shoulder with his own.

Noctis stared down the black asphalt that covered the roof of his condo complex. “Nothing.” He took another swig of the beer his best friend had brought with him, pursing his lips instead of saying more. He’d texted his best friend to come over as a _distraction_ from the shitshow that was his life, not to talk about it.

But of course Prompto could tell something was wrong. He always could, no matter how hard Noctis tried to hide it.

“Yeah… sure…” Prompto drawled out hesitantly, then he let out a small sigh. “So…” he sipped his beverage. “Oh! I took some badass pictures of the Justice Monsters Five arcade cabinet! Wanna see?”

Noctis knew he shouldn’t have snapped at Ignis. The chamberlain had just been pointing out the truth. But why did everyone have to keep ambushing him with the fact that his father was dying in service to the Crystal? He already knew, but tried not to see it in every line in his father’s face, in his startlingly gray hair, and now the cane he apparently needed to walk. No one had _told_ him. “Yeah… sure…”

Prompto pouted. “Dude! A little more enthusiasm please!”

Noctis chuckled. “Yeah, sorry. Just, we were just at the arcade, Prom.”

“That was several hours ago. You might have forgotten its glory since then!” The blonde’s eyes were bright, his freckles almost invisible in the washed out florescent lights above them.

Prompto tilted his head, the smile starting to fade when Noctis finally realized he hadn’t responded. “So, show me the photos.” Noctis huffed out.

The blonde looked startled for a second, and then rummaged in his backpack, mouth going on auto as he focused on the search, “So what’d you have for dinner? Did Specs make you more of those tasty pastries?” There was a note of hope in his voice, but Noctis’ throat tightened, his stomach dropping.

Ignis just wanted him to accept it all. That his father was dying. That it was fine that the Crystal was sucking the life out of him. To accept his duty, even though it was to banish an apparently inevitable darkness, to support a crystal that did nothing but steal the life out of one of the few people he had left. Sure Gladiolus and Ignis were there, but he knew they counted him a failure of a prince for daring to want more than an ambiguous destiny that started and ended with the crystal that was barely protecting his people.

And then there was Prompto. One bright, adorable point in his existence. Prompto treated him like a human being without pretending he wasn’t the prince of a nation; it was just a side note to him. Prompto expected nothing of him. He didn’t need to smile, didn’t need to always be calm and collected with his words. The Crystal’s blessing was beyond his caring.

His brain sent out signals. His mind said his fate was sealed; he would be alone, just like his father, and die in service to the Crystal. Just like his father would, and there was nothing he could do about it. Noctis couldn’t even begin to comprehend his body leaning sideways, free hand reaching up.

“Uh, Noct? Seriously, wha-” It wasn’t so much a kiss as an awkward assault against an open mouth. One that Prompto backed away from immediately. “W-woah.”

“Fuck.” Noctis surged into a standing position, the horizon sliding to remind him of the three beers he’d already had. “Go home, Prompto,” he breathed out, mouth dry.

He started to lurch away, but a hand clamped firmly onto his wrist. “W-wait!” Prompto yanked him back down to his level. Noctis hit the ground with a jarring thud. “Dude, give me a second to process.”

“There’s nothing- I didn’t-” Noctis stopped speaking because he realized there were no words to make it right. He’d screwed up the last thing-

“Can we just try that again?”

**

“Are you… happy about it?” Prompto asked, voice low.

Noctis resisted the clawing irritation at the accusation. He pursed his lips, waves crashing against the shore of reason. “Of course not! I’m pissed they think they can decide who I marry! That my dad-” Noctis reigned in his tongue before it got him into more trouble. He could just hear Ignis clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses in a way that shouted ‘I told you to prepare for this.’ The same way he did every time Noctis got blindsided with another bullshit clause of being a prince.

Prompto let out the breath he’d been holding. “Ok. That makes it easier to deal with, honestly. I mean… I mean you… you can’t,” his boyfriend’s voice faltered. He continued to examine the ground and not Noctis’ face. Noctis wished he would. He was shit with words and his feelings currently overshot complicated by miles, but usually with one glance, Prompto could sort out what was wrong. However his best friend wouldn’t read him now. Maybe couldn’t.

Noctis glanced around the compact bedroom of his condo, a little surprised his father had let him go back to it after the announcement that as part of the treaty, he was betrothed to Luna; a girl he hadn’t seen in twelve years. The demand was for no reason he could understand. He’d heard the pity in his father’s voice, ringed with an unspoken warning that to argue was betrayal. He doubted he would have minded the compromise, if it weren’t for his relationship with Prompto.

Instead he couldn’t conceive of a future without his best friend at his side. “We could run away. Leave Insomnia.” The words fell from his lips almost accidentally.

Prompto smashed together a laugh and a sniffle, finally looking up at him, eyes large.

“No joke.” Noctis said flatly, but his heart was racing, a weird heated prickliness running up his back.

Prompto’s wry smile flickered and died. “Noct, just, no. You’d regret it forever. I’m not worth-”

“Don’t _do_ that! Can’t I at least decide what you’re worth to me?” Noctis was surprised his voice was shaking so much.

Prompto’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened. Nothing came out for a while. “Yeah, sure Noct,” he finally responded gently, “of course you can. But… and I can’t believe I’m being the realistic one here, you just… can’t.”

Noctis suddenly felt very heavy, like everything in him was just slowing down, crawling to a stop. Prompto was right, he simply couldn’t abandon his father and all of Insomnia. It was his fault he had trapped himself like this. He just wanted to sleep.

“Buuuut,” Prompto interrupted, an impish thread to his trembling voice. He laid his palm against the side of Noctis’ face, fingers cold, like they always were when he was nervous, “that just means we have to have allll the fun on the way to Altissia. I know you hide your fishing pole in that weirdo magic pocket dimension you got, you think you can get a tent in there? Don’t want to keep Gladio and Iggy up _every_ night.”

Noctis felt the prickly heat ignite into an inferno centered squarely on his face. “Prom…”

His best friend giggled nervously, “Sorry, too porny? I’m so embarrassed, it sounded way sexier in my head! I totally take it-”

Noctis caught the quickly retreating hand, “No, you’re perfect.” His boyfriend blushed so fast he almost lost sight of his cute freckles. Noctis threaded their fingers together, setting their joined hands in his lap. He ran his thumb slowly along the back of Prompto’s freckled hand, the sudden giddiness settling into something more manageable as they let the silence in.

Noctis leaned forward, planting a light kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. That was not enough for Prompto, because he jerked his hand forward, taking Noctis’ balance with him. They tumbled back on the bed, Noctis half on top of the blonde. Prompto wrapped his free arm around him, drawing him in close as Noctis nuzzled against the crook of his neck, fighting back tears. They fell asleep like that.

Noctis dreamed he was watching fireworks with Prompto, Carbuncle nestled in his boyfriend’s arms like a cat.

**

Noctis sat heavily on the throne, face and ribs throbbing from his fight with Ardyn. There was a tingling numbness in his left leg he hadn’t felt since childhood. Ardyn’s blood smeared along the worn edges of the imposing armrests.

He was king.

It was his destiny to bring back the dawn, decided before he’d even been born. The Six had chosen for him this moment to die. He was ready; the consequences of his choices a weighty daemon pressing down on his shoulders and wrapping itself tightly around his neck. He slammed his father’s sword downwards and called to the kings.

He was met with silence.

Noctis tried again, the blade splattering red on the dais as it rammed into the marble. The metallic clang echoed in the grand hall, but the light of his ancestors did not fill the room.

Disgust. Disapproving. A swell of emotion, not his own, but after a year in the Crystal, Bahamut’s thoughts were almost palatable in the back of his throat.

Disappointment.

He wasn’t supposed to feel the anger still roiling in his gut, the hollow satisfaction of killing the monster that had taken everything from him. The light. Insomnia. His father. Luna…

His best friend and lover.

Noctis choked. How could he not hate Ardyn? How could he resist driving his father’s sword through the Accursed’s chest? Should he have denied himself justice before he sacrificed what little was left at the end of his dreadful journey?

The Regalia breaking down... an ill omen indeed.

Noctis wiped at the tears that started spilling down his grimy cheeks, unaware he was painting himself with Ardyn’s remains. He took shuddering deep breaths, trying to clear his mind of the Draconian’s distaste. Instead of great kings, he conjured up distant memories: of long, cool fingers, clumsy and earnest, of a bright laugh, of freckled skin and soft lips.

Noctis hiccupped. That’s why Prompto was dead. He couldn’t tell if the revelation was his, or Bahamut’s, but the outcome was the same. His desire to cling to one shred of his own happiness had killed him in the end. Ardyn might have spared his light if Prompto hadn’t meant so much to him. If he hadn’t been so damn selfish.

The 13 kings were never coming. The Astrals were abandoning him. Ardyn had won. There would never be another dawn. Humanity would fade into the never-ending night.

Noctis didn’t fight when the daemons poured into the throne room. He let them tear his broken body apart.

 

In the darkness was cold. One gasping breath, and then another. He was in a world he never wanted. Noctis went back to sleep, hoping to dream a better future.


	2. Year Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis tries complete obedience and servitude to the Crystal.

“This is the power of the Crystal? How disappointing,” Ardyn stated, the words lazy and disinterested. This is what he expected, towering over Noctis as he bled out at his feet. The monster pulled his father’s sword from numb fingers.

Noctis remembered the same wave of helplessness from when he’d been lying limply on the broken stones of Altissia.

Titan had shielded his weakness from Leviathan that day, and he had managed to scrounge up the energy to summon the incomplete Armiger and fight back, but by the time he’d subdued the storms of Leviathan, it was far too late.

It had only gotten worse from there.

“Any last words?” Ardyn sneered, placing the tip of Regis’ sword against Noctis’ chest. He frowned when Noctis didn’t respond, probably hoping the chosen of the Crystal would beg for his life.

Noctis had no life to plead for. He had dedicated himself to his destiny, tried so hard to be the perfect prince, and while it had granted him devotion, after two years in the Crystal, he had ultimately gone back to Insomnia alone.

Bahamut’s dismay swelled within him, stripping away his own.

Ardyn exhaled loudly. “You were always the stoic type,” he huffed before piercing Noctis’ chest with an agonizing slowness. It gave Noctis plenty of time to reflect on how he’d gotten to this moment, how he’d failed humanity.

He had fulfilled every one of his father’s requests to the letter. He hoped. He was cordial and composed even when it felt like his insides were crumbling; even when he knew everyone was just feigning interest because he was the prince. Even himself. Well, everyone but an awkward blonde classmate that never looked up from his camera, not even when the prince of Lucis graced him with a polite smile.

What was his name again?

Not for the first time, Noctis wondered if the strange, or maybe just genuine, boy had made it out of Insomnia during the attack. Probably not. Not many had.

There was a metallic tang in the back of his throat and Noctis could hear the Accursed’s voice, a low drone in the phantom ocean in his ears. Should he have disobeyed his father when he was sent away to Altissia on the pretense of marrying Luna?

Oh poor Luna…

As clear as the light of the Crystal, Noctis could recall Ardyn’s smug smile as MTs carried off the injured Oracle. He remembered the weakness of his body, limbs unresponsive as Ardyn sneered down at him, “If you ever wish to see your precious oracle again, denounce your throne and crown. The Crystal is already mine, what is there left for you?” His jaw had clenched in panic, but the chancellor had just waved dismissively at him. “Please, don’t get up on my account. I’ll see myself out.” There had been a momentary darkness after that, and then Noctis had been solely preoccupied with Leviathan’s returned rage.

“Ohhh, are you _crying,_ Prince?” Ardyn emphasized the title like it was a shameful word, much like Cid had when he’d first met him. No… wait… Cid had been impressed with his devotion to his duty. In fact the old friend of his father had chastised him for having no personality. Noctis literally choked on the bloody laugh that bubbled up from his insides.

Exasperation clouded the dark amusement. Bahamut thought he was focusing on the wrong things.

He was _dying_! For once he could focus on what he damn well pleased!

Shock. Clearly the Draconian had become complacent in Noctis’ servitude. He found some humor in that as well.

The sword invading his lungs paused. “You find this amusing, would-be king?” Ardyn asked, his head tilted slightly. Noctis looked up, but the Accursed was blurry and tinted red. Frankly he didn’t care much about him anymore, now that there was absolutely nothing he could do about the Starscourge.

It would no longer be just two years of darkness; their Star would suffer through eternal night.

His apathy dissipated at Bahamut’s reminder of the stakes. He urged his arm to move. Noctis summoned up the memory of Gladiolus, his shield, trying to imagine what the man would say if he’d been alive to see Noctis give up like this. Gladiolus had never had an occasion to chew him out for slacking off, because Noctis had never allowed himself to, but he’d imagine the man would say something gruffly, like:

 _“You sure you’re ready for this? You got what it takes to face your ancestors and convince them to lend you their strength? Got a long road ahead. Can you see this through? To the end?”_  He would stare him down, dark eyes intense.

It was easy for Noctis to think of how a more truant version of himself would respond, because it was the type of thought he squirreled away in the back of his mind, never willing to voice his doubts. _“Whether I like it or not, I’ve got a duty to fulfill, as king.”_

Then Gladiolus would clap him on the shoulder, and say _“You’re damn right you do. Then that means you better start taking this seriously._ ”

Noctis’ fingers twitched as adrenaline started to surge through his body. Why did that feel like a memory and not just a fantasy? Bahaumt didn’t respond. He would take the advice, all the same. Please, Father, lend me your strength.

The sword in his chest struck at Ardyn like a viper, spraying Noctis’ blood in its wake. The Accursed hadn’t been expecting that, and the sword plunged into him, the force of it driving him backwards into a ruined building.

Noctis sputtered, trying to draw breath. The Armiger exploded into light above him, and it felt like warm hands were dragging him into the air. Blood poured from the wound in his chest, plastering his black silk shirt to his broken skin. He didn’t have much time. The weapons of his ancestors darted after the sword of his father, pinning Ardyn to the wall before the red light of long forgotten kings burst forth again, striking at the weapons immobilizing him.

The Armiger retreated, frantically parrying the weapons surging towards him. He tried to focus on the fight, but pain consumed Noctis’ limp body in short, electric bursts.

“Oh,” Ardyn drawled, amusement returning, “It appears the prince has a little fight left after all.”

Noctis wasn’t trying to be stoic; he just had no breath to respond with.

As their mirrored weapons engaged in a war of attrition, Ardyn pulled himself from the building façade, his mouth quirked in a playful smile. Noctis knew he was still going to lose, his vision darkening with each pulse of pain, and it was not lost on him that the Astrals remained silent.

His thoughts were saturated with panic; where was the Ultima Sword that had struck Ifrit? What was the point of the Astrals’ favor if they would not fight alongside him now?

 What had he sacrificed Luna for?

_Noctis stared blankly at the swirling tattoos on Gladiolus’ arm, faintly aware of the landscape blurring by them through the train window. There wasn’t much to say after the disaster in Altissia, and no Ignis around to advise them on strategies for when they stopped in Cartanica for another royal tomb._

_Ignis had tried to continue on with them, but it was clear when an elixir didn’t cure his blindness that it was only false hope that he would ever be able to see again. Their journey was far too dangerous for Ignis, for sentimentality._

_The refuges from Altissia would be better equipped to help the royal retainer anyway._

_The silent stretched on as Noctis stewed in his thoughts. There was nothing to talk about because they’d already made their decision about Luna._

_Noctis’ hands tightened in his lap, the only outward sign it felt like his insides were bleeding. “Are you sure-” Noctis couldn’t stop the words spilling from his lips before Gladiolus had responded._

_“You can’t throw away everything for just one person, Noctis. You know that.” The Shield’s tone unexpectedly softened at the end. He didn’t like abandoning Luna any more than Noctis did, and it was selfish of him to try and put the decision on his retainer. It was his duty as king._

_Noctis swallowed, nodding. “I know. I just… wish there was another way.” He paused, unwilling to speak the natural conclusion that he wished there was a way that Luna didn’t have to die for cause of the Six. She is fated to die._

_Noctis jerked at the sudden, invasive thought, not sure why it had come to him._

_“I know, Noct. And maybe if Iggy hadn’t- look, there’s no use dwelling on what’s already happened. You just have to move forward and-”_

_“Damn the consequences?” Noctis let slip sullenly. Gladiolus looked at him, surprised by the outburst. “Ah, sorry,” Noctis corrected hastily, “I must be tired. My apologies.”_

_His shield frowned. “No, it’s ok. I know this is a hard decision for you to make. She was your…” Gladiolus trailed off, no longer interested in stating the obvious._

_“Yeah,” Noctis finished softly._

_“Get some sleep, its several hours before we hit Cartanica.”_

_Noctis frowned. “What about you?”_

_Gladiolus grunted, crossing his arms. “Not even tired. Don’t worry about it. Just get some rest, my liege.”_

_Noctis tried to ignore the fact his skin crawled at the title. He knew it was coming, it just had such permanence when said out loud. His father was never coming back. “Thanks, Gladio, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”_

He had found out several days later, when they’d gotten separated during the train crash, exactly what he’d do. Noctis shook away the memories, dark spots blossoming in his vision as the adrenaline from summoning the Armiger was fast waning. Without someone or something to tip the fight in his favor he knew he would lose.

It didn’t take long. Concentration slipping, a trident slammed through the defenses of his ancestors. The three-pronged weapon, favored by the oracles of old, pierced his stomach, carrying him through a window and into the side of an office cubicle that snapped, brittle against the force with which he was thrown. Like trash. Noctis reached out, brushing his fingers along the ornate designs of the weapon buried in him. It was Luna’s trident. He hoped he would see her again soon.

The never-ending night wrapped him in cold. Noctis’ body jerked, his face damp. In the twilight of prison, he could see the ghostly outline of stone walls. He tried to sit up, but the air was thick as concrete. His eyes drifted closed and sleep took him again.

He had to do better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gladio’s ‘rousing’ speech is taken from the game, Chapter 10. It raises Noctis’ vitality. \o/
> 
> I didn’t really get a chance to cram this into this part, but the reason why Prompto never approaches Noctis when they’re in school is because Luna never asks him to. And Luna never asks him to because Noctis seems content at school, surrounded by other classmates that he engages with regularly. He tries so hard.
> 
> Up next, what happens when he refuses to leave Insomnia at all. Spoilers: it’s terrible.


	3. Year Three - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis tries to be efficient and skip the journey entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, it's so nice to be able to write some interaction between the boys before everything is on fire, you have no idea.

“Wait!” Noctis jerked forward, startling everyone since they had assumed he was in a deep sleep. He had been.

Ignis veered the Regalia off the road, turning toward the back seat where Noctis had a death grip on his headrest. “Noct, did you forget-” he started in his most level, ‘I’m not irritated’, tone.

“We have to go back!” Noctis’ grip tightened, knuckles white. His blue eyes were wide.

“We haven’t even left the city,” Gladiolus groused, “You’re not getting cold feet are you? Because-”

“No!” Noctis cut in desperately. “We have to go back! The city is… the city…” His words slowed as his fingers uncurled from the headrest and he started to lean back in his seat, brow furrowed. “Wha…” He glanced around him, at the outskirts of Insomnia, bewildered.

“Did you have a nightmare, Noct?” Prompto asked, now hanging over the back of his own headrest to stare at him.

Gladiolus rolled his eyes. “For the sake of the Six, Noct, if you gave us all a heart attack over a nightmare, I swear-”

“I failed,” Noctis gasped out, the rigid intensity returning to his body. “Insomnia is going to… the treaty… my… my…father…”

“Noct?” Ignis tried hesitantly.

Noctis scrubbed at the sudden tears in his eyes. “No, no, we have to go back. The treaty, we can’t… let…” He trailed off in doubt again, trying to grope for the threads that had been so clear a moment ago.

“Noct, start making sense,” Gladiolus growled. “Are you trying to get out of going to Altissia?”

The question brought the flood back and Noctis’ stomach hurt as if he’d been stabbed. He grimaced, doubling over. “N-no, the treaty. It’s just a pretense,” he gasped, “They’re going to take the Crystal, and Insomnia… Insomnia falls.”

The car went silent for several heartbeats as the three members of his retinue stared at their prince huddled over, on the verge of tears.

“Are you certain, Noct?” Ignis finally asked. “Did the Crystal show you something?”

Noctis’ eyes lit up as he clutched onto Ignis’ rational explanation for the flood of memories he’d woken up with, like it could keep him from the undertow of insanity.

His body _hurt_.

“Yes! That! Bahamut-”

QUIET

Noctis almost bit his tongue at the speed with which his mouth snapped shut.

“The Draconian?” Ignis prompted.

“Please, you have to believe me.” Noctis finally said in a small voice.

“How Noct? You’ve got no proof beyond a nightmare you-” Ignis held up his hand, leashing the rest of Gladiolus’ protest.

“I believe you saw something, Noct, but if it comes to pass is another matter entirely,” Ignis said.

Noctis shrunk in his seat.

“I believe you, Buddy,” Prompto finally interjected, catching his gaze. “So what do we do about it? Warn your dad?”

Noctis shook his head, “No, I think my dad already knows. I… I’m not sure anymore. But we have to protect the Crystal.”

“Wait. If your father already knows, doesn’t that mean he definitely wants you outside of the city when this supposedly happens?” Gladiolus pointed out.

“I know! But it doesn’t work! If I merge with the Crystal now-”

“Wait, hold up. Merge with the Crystal?” Prompto interrupted, eyebrows lost in his hair, and his voice pitching high with panic.

“If I meet with Bahamut before all the-”

NO

Noctis’ mouth snapped shut again.

YOU MUST GO

“But-”

YOU MUST GO

Noctis pressed his hands against the sides of his head, trying to push the intense pressure out of his brain.

“Noct!” Prompto cried out, his voice muffled by the thunder in his head.

“No, no no, it doesn’t work that way,” he moaned, trying to curl away from the pain.

YOU MUST GO

And then he was in an unfamiliar bed, carefully tucked in. Noctis groaned at the throbbing in his head.

“You’re awake!” Prompto exploded cheerfully from his left. Noctis cringed at the volume, turning to see his best friend perched on the edge of the bed, hovering over him. “Sorry,” he said quietly, ducking his head, “mouth shut, got it.”

“You have a headache still?” Ignis’ calm voice filtered in from the right. Noctis turned his head and was presented with a small paper cup of water and a palm with a couple aspirin. “Here, take these.”

Noctis slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, taking the offered treatment. “Where are we?”

“A motel,” Ignis said evenly, “Not too far from where you collapsed. We thought it wise not to leave the city until we’d consulted with you.”

Prompto crossed his arms and hunched down, mumbling something about Gladiolus. Noctis guessed the decision hadn’t been unanimous.

“Thanks,” Noctis said softly, nervousness bubbling up.

“Noct, do you remember what you said in the car? About the treaty?” Ignis asked, his words dragging carefully.

Noctis squinted, and then swallowed at the remembered force of Bahamut’s command. He wasn’t supposed to be able to hear the Draconian yet.

Supposed to? Noctis shook his head.

“Ah, you don’t.” Ignis sounded disappointed.

“No, I mean yes, I remember. I just… I just don’t want that to happen again.”

“Yeah, what _is_ that, exactly? What happened, Noct?” His friend’s voice was shaking and for a moment it looked like he might reach for his hand. “You really scared us there, Buddy.”

“Bahamut,” Noctis said experimentally. When the pain didn’t return after a few beats, he continued, “Doesn’t want me to stay, but he’s wrong. Everything bad happens after Insomnia falls, and I won’t let it.”

“Everything… bad?” Prompto echoed quietly, the question clear.

Noctis could tell Ignis was struggling to understand, or believe him. “This is troubling. Do you really think you should go against the Draconian’s wishes?”

Noctis swallowed, bunching the fabric of the bed sheets with his hands. This was too big, too important for him to handle. The Crystal had chosen poorly. He was terrified. “Yes.”

Ignis put a finger to his chin briefly, looking towards the ceiling. “What would be the purpose of showing you what is to come, if you are not supposed to act on it?”

“I’m not sure Bahamut meant to, or the Crystal showed me, or… something. I don’t know. I just- it’s real, ok.”

“Yes, well-” The door opening cut Ignis off. Gladiolus, carrying a plastic bag bulging with snacks, strolled through the door, not even pausing as all eyes were on him.

“How you feeling, Noct?” The Shield asked casually, dropping the bag on the corner of the bed.

“I’m not crazy.” Noctis snipped defensively.

Gladiolus smiled. “Never said you were. Lazy, sure, but you can also summon weapons and phase through solid objects. A dramatic dream prophesy is not off the table.”

Some of the tension knotting up Noctis melted away, and he offered a weak smile in return. “Thanks.”

Gladiolus shrugged. “So you want to disobey the King’s orders, sneak into the sealed and guarded vault with the Crystal and merge with it? I got that right?”

“Just about,” Noctis replied sheepishly.

Prompto whistled. “Isn’t that like, treason?”

“Strictly speaking, yes.” Ignis answered, pushing at the bridge of his glasses, “But if we spoke to the king about your… vision, perhaps it doesn’t have to be.”

“Yes, I like that. Much better,” Prompto breathed out.

Noctis frowned, his right hand tightening into a fist. If he tried talking to his father it could make things easier, or backfire horribly. He was fuzzy on the details, but if he couldn’t get to the Crystal, they would all die to a never-ending night. Including Luna.

She is fated to die. Noctis tried to shake the thought out of his head. He felt a swell of panic. He hadn’t had to decide on anything more important than whether or not he should go along with one of Prompto’s crazy ideas. Or that one time he almost kissed his best friend. Noctis tried to dislodge that thought as well.

“Come on, Noct, make a decision,” Gladiolus said, but his tone was surprisingly patient.

“It’s not likely we’d have the resources to go against your father’s wishes,” Ignis said calmly.

Noctis sighed. When he put it like that, the choice seemed obvious. “Then I make my father understand.”

Prompto let out a gusty breath. “I’m sure he’ll understand. Right?” No one responded.

 

It was late when they made it back to the citadel, and Cor was understandably surprised to see them.

“Prince Noctis, what are you doing here?” There was an edge to the Immortal’s tone that betrayed that he knew exactly what Noctis’ refusal to leave meant.

“I need to speak to my father.” Noctis said, marching up the stairs towards the citadel entrance, his retinue in tow.

Cor frowned, “The king is in a meeting with Clarus. You should be on your way. You can call him tomorrow.”

Noctis continued on, knowing Cor wouldn’t block his way, but the man did fall in step with him. He sucked in a breath, trying to summon all his confidence. “I know Luna is coming here, Cor. I know why my dad sent me away.”

The guards opened the front door to the prince, even as Cor froze in place. Then he surged forward, keeping his voice low, “How do you know that?”

“I’ll explain when I see my father. So are you going to lead the way or what?”

Cor’s expression remained inscrutable as he weighed his options. Noctis tried not to fidget. “This way, Prince Noctis.”

From behind him, Noctis heard Prompto let out a loud, relieved breath. And then they were heading for the elevator.

To say his father was surprised to see him was an understatement. After a moment of disbelief, his panic sounded like anger, “What are you still doing here?”

Noctis tried to put aside the surge of emotion that told him he hadn’t seen his father alive in years. He drew in a shaky breath, fighting down the tears that threatened to derail him. “I know what happens at the signing ceremony, Dad. Bahamut, or the Crystal, showed me.” All the color drained from his father’s already haggard face. “Insomnia falls,” Noctis swallowed, trying to ignore the images of a broken city, “And they take the Crystal.”

His father’s shoulders slumped. “I see.”

Clarus, his father’s Shield, remained silent behind him, but Noctis didn’t miss that Gladiolus and his father shared a glance.

Noctis looked back at his father, trying to focus. “If I absorb the power of the Crystal now, I can stop the Starscourge before everything gets real bad. There’s just one problem. It’ll take me four years.”

“Wait, what?” Prompto exploded.

Noctis ducked his head, “When I merge with the Crystal,” he explained softly, “I don’t come out until four years later.”

“You- you failed to mention that part, Noct! What are we supposed to-”

“Prompto,” Gladiolus warned.

“Right, mouth shut,” Prompto finished glumly.

“We will protect the Crystal until then,” his father stated firmly.

Noctis shook his head, his heart speeding up. “No, you need to get as many people to safety as possible, then, in four years come get me on Angelgard island.”

“Ah,” His father let out slowly, “That is why the Crystal told me to leave a boat there. For you.”

Noctis nodded.

His father stared at him, eyes moving as if searching for something. “Are you sure about this, Noctis?”

Noctis remembered haggard, scared faces in the waning lights of a broken Insomnia. A starless sky. Blood. “Yes.” He braced for the argument.

 Instead his father broke into a sad smile, a hand landing heavily on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, My Son.”

His face flushed hot, and Noctis averted his eyes. “I didn’t get to say this to you before, but,” He mumbled, “Dad, thanks for everything.”

“Aww,” Prompto failed to say quietly, “This is much better than treason.” Noctis laughed.

“Excuse me?” Cor asked sharply.

“We were just weighing all of our options,” Ignis responded coolly.

His father chuckled. “I see how dedicated you are to this. You have changed so much in a few short hours.”

“I didn’t understand before,” Noctis answered softly, “Now I do.”

His father’s peppered eyebrows drew towards each other. “I’m sorry you have to bear this burden, My Son.”

Noctis laughed instead of sobbing. He knew this would kill him. He didn’t understand the details, because he hadn’t even made it to the throne, but he could hear Bahamut spelling out his fate in his head. _The blood price must be paid._   “You guys are going to be doing all of the hard work. I get to take a really long nap.”

His father’s frown saw through him, but Prompto interrupted on cue, “No fair!” He exclaimed, but his voice pitched higher at the end and Noctis wondered if everyone but him had guessed where the end of his journey would take him.

“Well, you’ve had a lot of practice at that, Your Highness.” Gladiolus grumbled. Everyone chuckled.

“When are you going to… you know,” Prompto asked shyly into the silence that followed.

“Now. The sooner I get this started, the sooner this is over.” Noctis answered, finally feeling a resolve he’d been faking up to that moment. His father looked like he wanted to say something, but just nodded. “There’s just one last thing, I need the ring of the Lucii to absorb the Crystal.”

His father nodded, removing the ring. Noctis couldn’t help but notice the tension in his father’s shoulders ease considerably as that weight was lifted from him. He very deliberately put the ring in Noctis’ waiting palm, searching his son for the strength to wear it. He let go.

Noctis sucked in a breath, but the sharp heat he remembered from the last time he held the ring did not shoot through his hand as expected. He picked it up carefully, turning it in the light. Then he slipped it on his finger. The weight settled against his skin, slightly warm, but not painful. His father looked as surprised as he felt. He remembered screaming when he put it on before.

Oblivious to the surprise father and son shared, Clarus looked to the king for guidance. His father nodded. The Shield motioned towards the door. “This way.”

“I’ll call ahead, so the vault is ready,” Cor added.

“No, you start the evacuation planning. It must hide our true intentions. I will handle the call,” His father said in a familiar tone that left no room for argument.

Cor bowed his head, “Your Majesty,” then he left the room.

Gladiolus’ father headed for the other door, and the King, Noctis, and his friends followed behind him.  His father got on the phone as their steps echoed down the long corridors of the citadel.

“What… what do you want us to do, Noct? You’re going to be gone for a really long time,” Prompto asked, shrinking even smaller than he already was.

“I’m sorry,” Noctis replied, looking away from them for a moment. “I need you to protect Luna when she goes to see the Astrals. I’ll need their help with Ifrit. And if you could just… get me the Royal Arms so I don’t have to waste time on that when I get back, that would be amazing.”

“The what?” Prompto asked.

“I believe that would be the weapons of the 13 great kings of Lucis?” Ignis interjected. “Are they important to your plan?”

Noctis nodded.

“Then we’ll get them,” Gladiolus stated with a firmness that betrayed he had no idea how difficult it was going to be to get some of them. But with his dad, Gladiolus’ father, and Cor at their disposal, Noctis knew they could do it.

“Why are you smiling, Noct? You’re about to disappear.”

“Because I think this just might work.”

Prompto laughed a little, the sound nervous. “Ok.” He picked at a wristband. “Did it not-” Everyone stopping in front of the vault door cut his question short. The Crownsguard were already in the laborious process of getting it open.

Noctis took a deep breath. He didn’t want to say goodbye, so he wouldn’t. “See you on the other side,” he got out hastily before slipping through the growing crack in the vault door. He made a beeline for the Crystal.

“Noct!” He heard Prompto’s voice layered with Ignis and Gladiolus’ deeper startlement.

Noctis didn’t look back, just took another deep breath before touching the Crystal.

The Beyond was a deeper blue than in his memory, closer to a night sky than an iridescent dawn.

“Gather strength, O Chosen.”

The landscape shifted as Noctis floated gently downwards and into Bahamut’s waiting palm. The Draconian stared at him, long-lashed eyes behind a stoic metal mask, too large to properly comprehend. “The fate of this world falls to the King of Kings. His Providence consecrated in the divine Light of the Crystal. So it is ordained – the revelation of Bahamut.”

The rumble of the Astrals’ words vibrated through him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It wasn’t painful, just made him feel weird and tingly. “Are you mad at me? Because I disobeyed you?” Noctis asked in a small voice.

“I have seen the coming of the prophesized hour- a time when the Crystal shall have shed the entirety of its Light unto the ring. Only then, once the sacred ring is replete, can the True King complete his ascension. And only by the True King’s hand can the immortal Accursed be banished and the Light restored to this world.”

“I can… I can still do that, right?” Noctis tried, worried by the fact that Bahamut hadn’t answered his question. He vaguely remembered this conversation, but shouldn’t it be different now?

“Only the True King, chosen by the Crystal and guarded by his forebears, can end the Accursed’s madness.” Noctis swallowed doubt, wondering if maybe he’d gotten it wrong. Maybe he wasn’t the chosen by the Crystal. Maybe he’d screwed up. “Providence,” Bahamut continue, seemingly oblivious to Noctis’ panicked silence, “A power greater than even that of the Six, purifying all by the Light of the Crystal and the glaives of rulers past. Only at the throne can the Chosen receive it, and only at the cost of a life; His own.”

Noctis shuddered, but he wasn’t afraid. Of course he was the Chosen of the Crystal, no one would let him forget it. He made a note of the rules, barely touching on the dying part. It seemed ok if it prevented the future he’d experienced.

“The King of Kings shall be granted the power to banish the darkness, but the blood price must be paid.” Bahamut continued, undaunted by his silence. Noctis thought it unwise, or futile, to interrupt again. “To cast out the Usurper, and usher in dawn’s light, will cost the life of the Chosen.

“Many sacrifice all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all. Now enter into Reflection, that the Light of Providence shine within.”

Bahamut released him and Noctis floated downwards like a leaf on the wind. He remembered kissing Prompto, even though he hadn’t. His face smeared with blood as he sat, haggard, on the throne, crying. Darkness. Luna’s trident buried in his stomach, his body limp and broken. That wasn’t his memory either. MT’s carrying Luna away as he watched helpless, instead of Ardyn killing her. Prompto’s dead body hanging limply from a machine in Zegnautus Keep. These weren’t his memories. This wasn’t Reflection, it was torture. He had done this before.

YOU WILL DO IT AGAIN

Suddenly the overlapping emotions stopped, and Bahamut’s rumbling voice echoed in their place, “The Light waxes full. Endure. Reclaim the throne and fulfill the calling of the True King.”

 

Noctis woke to dim light haloing the ruins of the stone prison. His skin was cold through his thin black t-shirt, as he found himself sitting on a threadbare cot. He groaned, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. Limbs were stiff as he pushed himself into standing. The world was dark, black motes floating in the air. A growl echoed through the crumbling stone walls, amplifying the frantic barking that followed. Noctis surged forward, “Umbra!”

Then the world flooded with light. He raised his forearm to block it out. There was a sharp crack overlapping a squeal, and then silence. Noctis lurched forward, calling to the Engine Blade his father had gifted him. His hand remained empty. “What?” Noctis tried again, then confusion rolled on a tidal wave as he both understood this was Ardyn’s doing, but was baffled as to how it was possible, since he was far outside of Niif territory.

“I had such grand plans for you, Prince Noctis, but you had to hurry and ruin them,” Ardyn’s voice echoed across the small island, carrying the tinny sound of speakers with it. “No matter. I’ve had three years to devise other plans.”

Noctis’ body jerked, washing with cold. “Three years? No, it was supposed to be four.”

“Oh dear,” Ardyn’s tone played at concern, “You seem to have miscalculated, Prince. I guess the cavalry won’t be coming after all. And they’ve been trying so hard.”

Noctis stood there stiffly, trying to stuff down the panic. He’d sworn Reflection had taken him four years in his memory. Talcott had said so! Then he remembered the sharp squeal from Umbra and he stumbled forward, still half-blinded by the ring of floodlights. He saw a black shadow on the ground, surrounded by a glistening puddle. “No! Umbra!” Luna’s dog didn’t respond. Noctis skidded to his knees next to the fallen dog. “N-no, no, no, no.”

“Awww, I’m sorry to cut short this heartbreaking scene, but I have more amusing things planned for us.”

That’s when Noctis noticed the hulking shadows ringing the island. And then the army of MTs activated, eyes glowing red in the night. Noctis jerked into a standing position, tears in his eyes and blood on his hands as he activated the arcane of the ring. He dodged through the ranks of the whirling MTs, allowing the ring’s divine light to parry for him as he waded towards the boat. He knew it was a long shot that it would still be useable if Ardyn knew he was there, but there was no other way off the island. Maybe if he’d had the Mark of Leviathan he could have convinced her to help him get across to Galdin Quay. He hadn’t given himself enough time.

Noctis made it to the boat, heart leaping in his chest as MTs trailed after him. There was no key in the ignition. Noctis fell to his knees, the toll the ring was taking on him a sudden punch to the gut. He tried to struggle to his feet, but cold metal hands grabbed him, flinging him into the air. He crashed through a stone wall, then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part got way out of hand, so I decided to split it into two parts.
> 
> I-I hope where the memories are coming from isn't getting too confusing...


	4. Year Three - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second part of Year Three. Noctis finds Ardyn waiting for him in Angelgard Stone Prison when he emerges three years after entering the Crystal, instead of the four years it took in his dream-prophesy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: herein lies the Mature rating.

Difficulty breathing is what pulled Noctis from a dream where he was a child again, playing in a field of sylleblossoms with Pryna, Umbra, and Carbuncle. He blinked his eyes open to find himself in an unfamiliar bedroom, white sheets and a thick grey comforter covering him. Confusion clouded comprehension and he struggled to remember how he’d gotten in the room; a room reminiscent of his old bedroom.

Angelgard Stone Prison. Hundreds of MTs. Umbra.

Noctis bolted into a sitting position to the sound of metal clacking against metal. His fingers brushed at his neck to find a thick leather collar with a metal chain, the other end firmly attached to a bedpost. He turned to pull at it, but his right leg twisted awkwardly, and he yanked back the covers to find his left ankle was attached to the opposite end of the bed in a similar fashion.

His heart rate skyrocketed as the haze from his dream finally lifted. Noctis clawed at the leather cuff around his angle, drawing in short breaths as the pull of the collar pressed hard against his throat.

And then he realized the ring of the Lucii was gone. “No, no no no!” A tsunami of panic pulled him under as he pulled harder and harder at his restraints, blindly scratching his skin in the process.

ENDURE

Noctis shifted restlessly in the bed, causing a cacophony of clanking as he fought back tears. His dumb, dumb plan. He’d ruined _everything_! Ardyn had the ring, the power of the Crystal, and Noctis couldn’t even fight back. He had nothing.

ENDURE

Why was he still alive? What more could Ardyn take from him? Noctis wiped at the tears forming, shame like sleet pelting his skin. What could he do?

The door swung open. Ardyn walked in with a crooked smile, divested of his coat and many of the trappings of his typical attire.

“I see you’re familiarizing yourself with your accommodations. I apologize if they’re not to your liking.” Noctis’ mind went blank as he saw the ring of the Lucii on a thin silver chain around Ardyn’s neck. The man brought his fingers towards it, but didn’t touch it. “Ah, how does it look? I simply couldn’t resist.” Noctis’ jaw clenched as he struggled to resist lunging at the man. “Speechless?”

“That doesn’t belong to you,” Noctis snapped, unable to keep the words from leaving his mouth.

Ardyn chuckled. “That’s where you’re wrong. You were only the second choice, at best. I _am_ the rightful owner.” Ardyn’s smile widened, “Thank you for preparing it for me, by the way. So thoughtful.” Noctis growled, fists rumpling the bed sheets as Ardyn closed the distance. “I do have a question,” the man drawled as he perched on the edge of the bed.

Noctis immediately surged forward, reaching for the ring. His fingers closed around in, then he was on his back, Ardyn straddling him, bent over because he was still clutching the ring.

Ardyn chuckled, breath warm against Noctis’ suddenly flushed face. “The King of Kings is a little thief.” He covered Noctis’ fist with large hands, meticulously prying his fingers away from the ring.

Noctis tried to hold on, but the man was stronger. Ardyn pressed Noctis’ wrists by his sides, leaning into the grip. Their faces were so close that Noctis strained his bound neck to lift his head far enough to clamp his mouth over the ring. He had no idea what to do from there, he just knew he had to fight.

Ardyn let out a genuine laugh, leaning back, forcing Noctis to let go or choke to death. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. Breaking you is going to be quite enjoyable.”

Noctis felt like he was encased in ice, muscles seizing. And then he thrashed, violently, ripping his arms out of Ardyn’s grasp, scrambling for the ring even as he wrestled to shove Ardyn off of him. The man continued laughing as he toppled over on the bed beside Noctis, a leg still thrown over him. He batted away his hand and shoved him.

Noctis tumbled off the side of the bed, his back slamming into the ground. The leash kept his head from hitting the floor, putting him at an awkward angle and cutting off his air supply; he saw black spots in his vision. His bound leg dangled in the air off the side of the bed, pulling hard on his knee.

Ardyn peered over the side of the bed, still giggling as Noctis fought to right himself. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just too precious. King of Kings indeed.”

Noctis squirmed as he was yanked back onto the bed, this time face down. Ardyn straddled his legs again, pinning Noctis to the bed. Noctis put his hands under his shoulders and shoved, but only managed an awkward backbend before Ardyn put a heavy hand on his shoulder blade, pressing him into the mattress.

“That’s enough horseplay, Your Majesty,” Ardyn quipped.

“Get off!” Noctis shouted in impotent frustration.

“If you insist,” Ardyn returned.

Noctis stilled in confusion, surprised that the command had worked. But instead of getting off of him, Ardyn slipped a hand between his thighs and slid up. Paralyzed by shock, Noctis lay ridged as Ardyn gently cupped his crotch, fingers massaging him.

Then he jerked, trying to yank himself forward, away from Ardyn’s probing hand, but the weight on his lower legs held him in place. “Get off me, you pervert!” His mind screamed at him to calm down, his protests weren’t helping, but his skin was crawling, walking out reason. He needed to get away, but he couldn’t even dislodge the hand touching him in a place no one else had. Noctis came up on one elbow to reach beneath him, clawing at the hand wrapping around him, nails digging into flesh.

Ardyn hissed, pulling away. “Oh, you like to play rough, Your Majesty?” He said, grabbing the offending hand and pinning it his lower back, twisting sharply at something in his elbow, instigating a hiss of his own. “I’m ok with that,” Ardyn whispered, pressing his lips against Noctis’ shoulder blade. Then he bit down, drawing a curse from Noctis. Ardyn slid his free hand under Noctis’ shirt, digging short, surprisingly jagged nails into his skin, dragging them down and around, into the hollow of his hip. Noctis cried out involuntarily, jerking in Ardyn’s tight grip.

Ardyn unfolded Noctis’ wrenched arm, pressing it into the mattress with a knee. “Need my hands free for this,” he explained, tone ringing with amusement. He repeated the process with Noctis’ other arm. Then deft fingers slid beneath the waistband of his underpants, and Ardyn started to slowly slide his pants and underwear down his hips. Noctis shifted, but Ardyn just leaned further onto his hands, immobilizing him.

“Stop! Fucking stop!” Noctis cried out as the fabric of his clothing scraped along his skin, exposing him to cool air. Ardyn didn’t stop until has pants were bunched at his knees. He cupped the cheeks of his bare ass, gently thumbing the base of the scar that ran the length of Noctis’ back. He let out an involuntary whine, his breath hitching as his already elevated heart rate burned in his chest. “D-don’t-” Ardyn chuckled, running a long finger up the cleft between Noctis’ clenched cheeks, squeezing the flesh aside enough to push his nails against his entrance. “No…”

Ardyn hmphed. “Very well, Your Majesty.” A hand slipped under him, pushing his legs apart so that Ardyn could reach between them, wrapping his fingers around the exposed length trapped against the mattress. Noctis gasped, hands clenching as Ardyn started up a lazy rhythm, palm warm against him. His eyes watered as he felt his body immediately respond to the intimate touch. Ardyn leaned down as he continued to stroke him, breath hot against his ear. Something hard, wrapped in coarse fabric, rubbing against his ass with the motion of the thrusts.

Noctis whined, his breath stuttering in his throat. He stammered inarticulately around a moan that seeped out of him. Ardyn licked his earlobe, nipping at it as his pace sped up. “I see you’re enjoying this, Your Majesty,” Ardyn sneered softly in his ear, squeezing. Noctis cried out, heat surging up his groin to his stomach. He gnawed the bed sheets, trying to suppress the hitching gasps escaping him. He was so hard, throbbing against the hand stroking him, that he had to lift his hips slightly to make room, pressing him harder against Ardyn’s own erection.

Ardyn circled a thumb around the tip, smearing precum as he started to grind against him. Noctis whimpered, mouth open against the bed as Ardyn pumped him. An ugly thought invaded his mind; it felt better than when he’d touched himself, the fluttering nervousness of getting caught beating in his chest, as he fantasized that it was Prompto with him.

Pleasure clouded the disgust, turning his thoughts to an inky black before he exploded with a cry, shuddering against the man pressed against him. His heavy breathing and Ardyn’s chuckle, ringing in his ears as tingling bliss sunk into his limbs, melting into the muscle and leaving him boneless and mute.

“We’ll have to build up your stamina, Your Majesty. That was a poor showing for the King of Kings.”

Noctis’ already heated face burned and he buried it against the mattress, trying to hide the tears staring to slide down his cheeks. Shame just drove them out of him harder, until he was open-mouthed sobbing against the mattress.

Ardyn laughed, patting his bare ass. “Did I hurt your feelings? I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Fingers dragged gently through the back of his mussed hair. “There, there, Your Majesty.”

Noctis sniffled, his face damp and hot as his stomach. He wanted to curl up in a ball, but couldn’t move even though it felt like his body was vibrating with how much he was shaking. Ardyn waited, suspiciously patient, until he’d depleted his store of vocal grief, and just lay limply on the bed, mind drifting to the hand softly stroking his hair. It called up images of his father, methodically stroking his hand as he lay in bed, paralyzed and panicking. Noctis tried to force the thoughts out, hating as they mingled with the heavy weight of Ardyn on top of him.

His eyelids were drooping as the world dimmed underneath his dark lashes. He was tipping into sleep when a finger pushing against his entrance jolted him awake, sending a shockwave through his body. Noctis lurched.

“Oh, did I startle you?” Ardyn asked before unceremoniously shoving the finger inside him. Noctis cried out, tensing so hard it slowed Ardyn down for a moment, but then he just applied more force and Noctis was on fire again. Ardyn worked his finger in and out, wiggling for room. It felt like he was trying to pry his spine open; to spill his organs out on the white sheets. Before Noctis could adjust, a second finger was added to the mix and he screamed into the mattress. Ardyn remained disturbingly silent above him. Noctis stammered, struggling to force something coherent out of his aching jaw. A third finger made him burn hotter and he thought maybe he was bleeding, but his mind kept shorting on the thick spikes of pain running up his spine and radiating down his thighs.

A brief reprieve brought obscene slurping sounds and then the fingers invading him were cold. Noctis was edging dangerously close to hyperventilating, his chest tight. The fingers in him started to spread.

He felt Ardyn shift against him, hot breath against his ear again. “Breathe, Your Majesty.”

Noctis let out a whine as a full body shudder wracked him. Ardyn pulled his pants all the way down and off of his right leg. Then blood rushed to his legs as Ardyn suddenly lifted off of him. He didn’t give him a chance to react, however, flipping him over and hooking an arm underneath his left knee, folding him over. For several seconds, while Ardyn took his time positioning his thick cock up against his entrance, Noctis couldn’t move his free limbs, simply too dazed and dizzy to what was happening to him. Then Ardyn pushed into him, one long, deliberate thrust, and Noctis’ back arched, a cry spilling from his lips.

Ardyn grinned down at him impishly while he leisurely pulled back. Noctis whimpered, lower back spasming. Glazed eyes looked up to see the ring of the Lucii softly glowing above him. It was swinging towards him, and then away. It swung forwards and backwards again and again, the pendulum gaining speed. Light exploded in the back of his mind, something amazing filling his body. It pulsed to the swinging of the delicate black ring, making him warm and tingly, sweat beading on his forehead. His hand drifted up, fingers following the fierce arch of the ring. He grabbed it. It slipped through his fingers. He tightened his grip the next time it hit his palm.

Ardyn laughing broke the trance, and Noctis realized he was being fucked into the mattress by a man that had ruined his life. Multiple times. He punched him. Ardyn howled with laughter and backhanded him. Noctis balled his fists in Ardyn’s shirt, using it as leverage to crack the man in the nose with his forehead. He reached for the ring as Ardyn brought a hand to his face, yanking. The chain was not as delicate as it looked.

Black oozed from Ardyn’s nose. He was not smiling. He punched Noctis hard enough that he heard something crack in the white hot pain. Noctis kept his death grip on the ring while he brought up his other arm to try to protect his head. Ardyn cracked him again, knocking his forearm into his nose. He tasted blood. Ardyn punched him again, then grabbed the chain attached to the collar, and yanked. Noctis gasped for breath, but found none. He was cracked across the face again, knocking out his vision. His consciousness soon followed.

 

Sun warmed his skin, comforting and gentle. Noctis slowly opened his eyes to find he’d been sleeping in the back of the Regalia. Carbuncle was curled up in his lap, platinum fur glowing in the light. He yawned. Carbuncle lifted its head, black eyes turning towards him.

_Hey Noct!_

“Hey,” he responded with a sleepy smile. “Good to see you again.”

_You can stay here as long as you like. I’ll protect you!_

“My dad says I’m king here.”

_You sure are! Do you want to go play?_

“Yeah, sure!” Carbuncle leapt out of his lap, bounding out of the car. Noctis scrambled after, nearly stumbling out of the car in his haste. He chased after his friend and protector, laughing.

They played for a long time, exploring the magical gardens of the citadel, but it never got dark, he never had to head back home for a lonely dinner. He didn’t have to do his homework, or go to bed, just doze in the sunlight when he got tired.

Carbuncle said it would protect him.

 

Noctis woke to the sound of waves crashing against the shore, in a night devoid of stars. Sleep washed over him, renewing hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to say. I'm so sorry.


	5. Year Four - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis makes a long-forgotten promise to Shiva

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to break this try up into parts too.

Noctis lay on the broken stones of Altissia, eyes wide as the Chancellor strolled up beside Luna as she was kneeling on the ground; so far away from him. He tried to move, screamed at his body, but he couldn’t even roll onto his side. As Ardyn started crouching to say something to the Oracle, Gentiana was suddenly behind him, eyes closed, her expression tranquil. She brought her finger to her lips, tilting her head to give Noctis a secretive smile before placing the graced digit on the crown of the Chancellor’s head. He was instantly covered in frost.

Luna looked up at the Messenger, her lips moving, surprise evident in her crystal eyes. Then she struggled to her feet, and with one, efficient motion, speared the Chancellor with her trident, shattering him into hundreds of glittering pieces. The two women spoke, and then both looked over at him. Leviathan roared, water raining down on him, clouding his vision.

Warmth spread through him, blocking out the icy rain. Then he was falling upwards, light exploding around him. The power of kings surged through Noctis, bringing with it, clarity. He knew exactly what he needed to do. Noctis phased through the air, the Armiger whirling around him. He pulled a lance from the arsenal and darted forward.

He wore down the mighty Leviathan before switching to the trident, burying it in her thick hide, sailing downwards, gutting her like a fish.

“It is done.”

Everything in him went out like the tide, dragging him into darkness.

 **

Noctis’ eyes creaked open; they felt gummy. Splayed beneath his fingers was a copy of the Cosmogony book Luna had given him. He yawned, rubbing his eyes. He must have fallen asleep while trying to read it.

As he scrubbed away the blurriness, he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. A woman with long black hair and a serene smile was watching him. Or sleeping while standing, he wasn’t sure which.

“Ah, the young prince is recovering well.”

Noctis leaned forward slightly, brow furrowing, “Who…?”

“Gentiana, a Messenger. The prince has read of our kind?”

Noctis looked down at the book resting on his lap, the wheelchair creaking a little as he tried to recall why that word sounded so familiar. Why the elegant woman looked so familiar.

 _She was walking beside a sad, black haired man wearing clothes like his father's. She was wearing a secretive smile as she looked at a big man wreathed in fire. Weird sounds echoed around her, but he understood the words:_ Taste again the chill wind of Death _. Then she changed into a beautiful ice fairy, gliding up into the air like a drifting snowflake; multiplying and dancing around the fire man before freezing him with a gentle kiss._

“Ah! I know you! You’re the Glacian! S-sh… uh….” He trailed off, biting his lip as he struggled to remember her name.

Her dark eyes opened, and she looked at him, serene smile faded. “How does the prince know this?”

Noctis frowned. She didn’t seem mad at him, but he was surprised she hadn’t expected him to remember her.

 She had made the covenant with Luna.

Noctis straightened in the wheelchair, grimacing slightly as it pulled at the wound in his back. “Luna asked you to help me, didn’t she? With the big fire man. Um… Um… I don’t remember his name.” Noctis looked at his feet.

“Lady Lunafreya will…” Gentiana knelt, taking his hands. He felt a chill run up his arms, but it didn’t hurt. “How does the prince remember the future?”

“No… no,” Noctis shook his head, “I just remembered… I mean… I…” His brow furrowed as he grasped for anything that would place him in the scene he’d remembered. “Let it now be done,” he intoned, “as promised to the Oracle.” Noctis’ bottom lip started to tremble. “Y-you gave- you gave me Luna’s trident.” Noctis grabbed the sides of his head as it began to pound. Why was he suddenly so sad?

Luna died. She was killed. She was killed! He watched her get stabbed over and over again. By the Chancellor, Ardyn Izunia. No. The _Accursed_.

Noctis cried out, shaking his head. “You have to help Luna! The Accursed guy is going to kill her!”

“The prince is distressed.” Gentiana put a hand on his knee, “Shhhh.” Frost started to form on his hair.

“No! Promise you’ll help Luna! You’re an Astral, you can save her! Please! _Please_!” Hot tears filled his eyes, sliding down his cheeks, but they didn’t darken his lap, they froze.

“I… cannot-”

“Please! I’ll do anything! I’ll… I’ll-” Noctis blinked, staring down at his hands. Why was he so small? He looked up to see Gentiana kneeling before him, eyes large and puzzled.

He took a deep breath. This was Tenebrae, when he was a child. Could he save Luna? “If you save Luna,” He started slowly, “in Altissia, she can… go on to make the covenant with Ifrit. Then he won’t be fighting for Ardyn when I come out of the Crystal two years later.”

Shiva stood, regarding him carefully. Then she smiled slowly. “A Covenant with the King of Kings is forged.” She brought her finger to her lips, “But the King must stay a prince. I will remind him of the Covenant when it is time.” She leaned forward, placing a gentle, icy kiss on his forehead.

He dreamed of snow.

** 

Noctis surged into a sitting position in a familiar bed; his room at the Leville in Altissia. “Luna!” He cried out, his face damp, limbs shaking.

“I’m here, Noctis,” she said in a serene tone, rising from a plush red chair that had been facing away from the bed.

Ignis stood behind her, looking exhausted. There was a faint redness around his eyes and his glasses were gone. “Back with us? I’ll tell the others.”

“You’re hurt…”

“Nothing Lady Lunafreya couldn’t fix,” Ignis said with a small smile, then he ducked his head, leaving the room.

Luna walked to the bed. Her shoulders were bruised, and she looked so tired, and yet she smiled at him. “How are you feeling?”

“You’re alive,” he exclaimed before ugly, open-mouthed sobs took over.

Luna smiled even brighter, slipping onto the edge of the bed to gather him in a hug. “Gentiana told me everything. Thank you, Noctis.” She lazily ran her hand over the back of his mussed hair as he cried into the crook of her neck.

Eventually the flood of relief subsided, leaving him feeling like he could sleep for a week. Luna reached a pale, elegant arm out, fetching a box of tissues to set in his lap. He laughed a little, gracing her with a long, disgusting sniffle, before tidying up. She chuckled, touching the side of his flushed face as he tossed his damp wad of tissue paper in the trash.

“I’m so- so- glad,” He stopped, feeling tears welling up again.

“I’m so happy I get to have this opportunity to be with you, Noctis. Thank you.”

He smiled shyly, looking away from her intense gaze. She lowered her hand. “I wish I remembered whatever I saw back then, if it helped save you, maybe it could…” He sighed.

Luna frowned, brow furrowing. “From what Gentiana described, it distressed you greatly. Perhaps it is for the best.”

“But-”

Luna placed a hand over his fists bunched in his lap. “Noctis, it will be fine. I can now see to it. We will go to the Infernian, together.”

He nodded, hunching, “Ok.” Through the fringe of his hair he looked up at the beautiful, resolute woman his childhood friend had become. Before he could say anything else there was a knock at the door.

No one waited for them to answer, Prompto bursting into the room, followed by Ignis and Gladiolus. “Oh, thank the Six you’re awake!” His best friend exploded, scurrying over to the bed. He flashed Luna a smile before bumping Noctis’ shoulder with a fist. “Had us worried there, Buddy. It’s been two days.”

“What?!” Noctis exclaimed, “Why did you let me sleep that long?” Luna hid a giggle behind her hand.

“His Highness is never happy,” Gladiolus grumbled, throwing up his hands, even though he was smiling too, “Complains we don’t let him sleep enough, then complains we let him sleep too much.”

“Mmmm,” Ignis added noncommittally.

The laugher slowly settled into a comfortable silence.

“So what is our next move? Ignis asked, “Seek the Infernian?”

Luna smiled at Noctis, “Yes, we both have a promise to keep. We will head for the Pitioss Ruins.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully. “The name is not familiar to me. Where are they?”

“It’s not surprising,” Luna answered, turning away from Noctis to address the rest of the room, “The ruins were cut off from the rest of the world during a battle between the Infernian and the Archaean long ago. It is north of the Rock of Ravatogh.”

“Wow,” Prompto breathed.

“There is one problem,” Luna added, lifting a graceful finger, “We will need an airship to reach it.”

“That is quite the obstacle,” Ignis responded.

“Are we going to steal one?” Prompto bounced. “Let’s steal one! I’d love to fly an airship!”

Noctis laughed. “You heard him, guys.”

“That’d really stick it to the Niffs,” Gladiolus chuckled.

“Simple, yet effective. There are still several ships in the area,” Ignis said, “No doubt trying to work out what to do now that the Chancellor is...” he politely cleared his throat, “...indisposed."

Prompto let out a full-body shiver. He leaned towards Noctis, “Lady Luna let us know that he’s… well… immortal…ish.”

Noctis’ eyes widened. “Immortal? How-”

Luna wrapped one of his hands in her own, “You can do it, Noctis. With the power of the ring of the Lucii, you can stop him and bring peace.”

Noctis swallowed. No pressure. His stomach growled. He flushed bright red. Everyone laughed.

“But first, breakfast,” Ignis amended.

During breakfast Ignis brought him up to speed on the success of the evacuation, and that thanks to his quick work, much of the lovely city had been spared Leviathan’s wrath. Afterwards Ignis took Prompto and Gladiolus with him to gather intelligence on the Niflheim ships remaining in the area. Noctis tried to go with them, but Ignis and Luna had ganged up on him, insisting he rest.

Noctis did not miss that that left him alone with Luna.

“Noctis, I have something to give you,” Luna held out her hand, and in it, the ring of the Lucii looked small and elegant. He picked it up, almost dropping it at the jolt of fire it sent up his arm. Tension he hadn’t realized was there, faded from Luna’s body. He quickly shoved the ring in his jacket pocket.

“Thanks.”

Luna frowned. “I’m so sorry about your father, Noctis. He was a good man.”

Noctis gave her a faint smile, “I know.” His gaze slid to the ground.

Luna turned towards the door. “I’ll let you rest.”

Noctis grabbed her wrist, “Luna, wait.”

Luna paused, looking down at the physical contact. Noctis quickly let go, blushing.  “A chance to see you once more… who would have thought?” Her tone was wistful.

“Luna?”

She looked away, her cheeks dusting pink. “Noctis, I…” she smiled, helpless for words.

His heart was thunder in his chest, but he reached for her, carefully threading their fingers together. “Can… I…?”

Luna leaned in, placing a slow, light kiss on his cheek. He turned his head, touching his lips to hers. When she didn’t pull away or laugh at him, he brought his free hand to the side of her face, gently running his thumb along her cheek. When they parted, he looked in her light blue eyes for hesitation. “Is this… ok?”

Her responding smile was bright, “More than I could hope for.”

So Noctis kissed her again, less hesitantly, reveling in the softness of her lips. He would have been content to kiss her like that forever, but eventually she pulled away, only to lead him over to the bed, pulling him down to sit on the edge with her. Her pale pink lips were glistening. Luna kicked off her heels as they started kissing again. Then she scooted back, and he followed her until she’d maneuvered them both onto the bed, lying towards each other.

She ran her thumb along his bottom lip, eyes taking him in. He felt a little embarrassed under the soft scrutiny. She laughed, maybe reading his thoughts, and then leaned in to replace her thumb with her lips. Noctis felt her hand run from his shoulder, gliding down his arm to cup his hand, twining their fingers together again. Noctis kissed her jaw line, trailing his attention down her neck to press another against her collarbone.

Luna brought their joined hands to her chest, turning their knuckles so that he could feel her fluttering heartbeat. He could hear the smile in her sigh as she closed her eyes. Noctis leaned forward so that they were pressed together, brushing the crook of her neck with his lips, breathing her in. She was warm, carrying with her the sweet scent of sylleblossoms.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered in his ear.

“I missed you too, Luna.”

They lay like that for awhile, sharing heartbeats and light, lingering kisses. Then Luna removed her hand from his, brushing her fingers along the hem of his shirt. She tugged it upwards, so he sat up to wriggle out of it. Luna joined him, pressing kisses to his skin, skimming her hands along his chest as he removed the article of clothing. Free, he kissed her deeply before returning the favor, tossing her white shirt at the foot of the bed. She was wearing a sensible, cream-colored bra. He ran his fingers under one of the straps, pressing his lips to her collarbone. He slipped his other hand against the opposite strap, then looked up in her eyes, questioning.

Luna placed a delicate hand over his own and pushed. He followed her cue, sliding the thick straps off her narrow, soft shoulders, lightly brushing the bruise Leviathan had left on her pale skin. He pushed the bra away from her breasts, replacing the fabric with his hands. Luna arched into him slightly, reaching behind her back to unclasp the bra and drop it to the floor. They held a comforting silence as they explored each other’s bodies with hands and lips and teeth, repeatedly; a practice in memorization.

 **

"You guys are still getting married, right?"

Noctis froze at Prompto's unexpected question, hand on the ornate stone door buried deep in the Pitioss Ruins. The radiating pattern of gold was warm to the touch. They had stolen an airship that Prompto _almost_ crash landed in the desolate north of the Rock of Ravatogh. They'd endured a hell far worse than the labyrinthine tunnels of the Crestholm Channels. And now, outside of the door to the Infernian, Prompto was asking a question that set his face on fire. "Wha-?" He responded dumbly as all eyes were on him. Noctis looked to the Oracle for guidance.

The smile she graced him with was sad. "I left my dress in Altissia," she said by way of explanation.

Noctis' heart fluttered; it wasn't a 'no', or uncontrollable laughter. They hadn't talked about it, he hadn't even really thought about it in the last few days, just content to be able to spend time with her.

"We saw it!" Prompto said, eyes lighting up, "Everyone was so happy."

"Well, it's settled," Gladiolus rumbled, slapping Noctis on the shoulder so hard he almost pitched forward. "After we tie up all the loose ends, let's think about the ceremony."

"A fine idea," Ignis added, pushing at the bridge of his glasses.

"Yeah," Noctis ducked his head, blushing, "I'll think about it. But let's focus on this first." Luna giggled.

"Right, big fire guy, save the world, _then_ wedding. Got it!"

"Prompto," Noctis warned, trying not to laugh, "Focus." Luna hadn't said no, but maybe she was just being polite. Noctis shook his head, driving the doubt out. Focus. He pushed the door open to a blast of face-melting heat. "Stay cool, he's gonna bring the heat." Luna gripped her trident, mouth set in a resolute line as she entered beside him.

The Infernian was chained to a large throne wreathed in fire. Each blackened chain was anchored to the ground by a huge, shimmering sword with black script on it. Despite the room shimmering with heat, Luna moved forward, slamming her trident into the dais that spanned their half of the cavernous room. Between them and the throne was a small gulf of molten lava. Sweat glistened on her skin, her white dress quickly becoming sooted with ash. She stood proud, back straight. Beautiful.

She sang a lilting melody that rose above the roar of the inferno. Ifrit's eyes snapped open. The chains rattled, straining against the sword pitons. "I am Lunafreya, blood of the Oracle. God of the Inferno, I beseech you: enter into this covenant that the King might reclaim the Stone!"

The Infernian growled, fire leaping from the moat of lava in a wall towards them. Noctis dragged Luna to the ground, shielding her with his body before they were overtaken by the flames.

"Noct!" Prompto exclaimed, already there beside him, patting out the fire singeing his skin, turning it an angry red. "Hang in there, Buddy!" It was hard to focus on his best friend's words through the pain. Below him, Luna shifted. "Lady Luna, are you all right?"

"I'm alright, Prompto!" Her clear voice washed over him like relief, "But Noctis-"

"Ok. Stay down, we'll keep him busy." Prompto surged into standing, firing at the Infernian.

"Gladio, over here!" Ignis called from a stone podium towards the center of the dais. It was blackened but standing after the assault. Gladiolus grabbed Noctis, unceremoniously throwing him over his shoulder as he pulled Luna to her feet. He dragged them both behind the podium.

Gladiolus gently set Noctis down. He grimaced, his back burning. Luna leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. "Blessed stars of life and light," She whispered, melting the pain away. And then she started coughing. Violently. Noctis steadied her shoulders, but before he could ask what was wrong, Prompto was on top of them.

"Here it comes!"

They all huddled behind the podium as another wave of fire crashed around them.

"Here you go," Ignis pressed an elixir into Luna's hand, helping her break the seal. She downed it, which eased her coughing.

"Are you ok?" They asked each other in unison.

"I got your back!" Prompto called to Gladiolus as the two of them both darted out from behind the stalwart stone.

"You stay here and rest," Noctis said, hands on her shoulders. Luna opened her mouth to protest. "Please?" Luna sighed in defeat. Noctis smiled, then looked over at Ignis. "Let's go!" The royal retainer gave him a resolute nod and they both followed after Prompto and Gladiolus.

Noctis flung his blade, warp-striking into Ifrit's arm, knocking the huge glaive he was holding aside. It skittered into the chasm, floating on the lava like seafoam. Gladiolus leapt across after him, planting his shield in the ground. Ignis followed, driving his ice lance into the Astral's chest.

"Move!" Prompto shouted. In unison, Ignis and Gladiolus jumped out of the way, and Noctis threw his sword into a pitted pillar near the ceiling, following after it. Prompto threw a flask of venomed Blizzaga at the giant.

Noctis pulled the Axe of the Conqueror from the Armiger, bringing it down on Ifrit's head. The Infernian continued his inarticulate growling.

"Down!" Ignis called, a moment before the Astral started to sweep his bound arm. Prompto dove behind the podium with Luna, Gladiolus and Ignis behind the shield, and Noctis warped to the back of the room, as another pulse of fire cranked up the heat. He was already sweating profusely. The four of them renewed their attack on the Infernian.

They drained their considerable store of ice spells during the assault, and while the podium remained solid, Gladiolus' shield was melting. Everyone was clearly exhausted, but the Infernian showed no sign that his fury was abating.

Noctis warped to the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. His skin felt tight and awkward, sweat dripping in his eyes. Below, Ignis yelled a warning that another wave was coming. Everyone flagging, Noctis saw with horrifying clarity that they wouldn't all make it in time.

He blindly pulled a weapon from his arsenal, slamming into Ifrit's sweeping arm, knocking it back and into the halo of fire. Noctis' momentum carried him through it and into the back wall. He hit the ground, dazed and smoldering. The Infernian shifted to pick him up in one large, burning hand, and squeezed. Noctis screamed, his vision going bright white.

Then the Infernian roared, the pressure lifted, and Noctis crashed into the charred throne, rolling off it to hit the ground. Everything hurt and his lungs burned; probably because he was inhaling embers. He tried to move, but his body wouldn't cooperate.

Someone called his name.

"God of the Inferno!" Noctis dimly heard Luna's shout, "Has the King not proven himself worthy? He has endured your trial, and seeks to reclaim the Stone, to restore light to this star! Stop this- stop this foolishness!" The sound of the trident ringing out punctuated her statement.

Ifrit snarled, but the fire shrank and then he was gone in a wisp of flame.

Noctis vaguely felt the burn as Ifrit blessed him with his mark, then he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this far!! I'm sure everything is going to be JUST FINE


	6. Year Four - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now with the Mark of the Infernian, Noctis continues on his journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remixed a lot of the dialogue from the game in this one, as in modified it to suit the try.
> 
> Brief mature rating in this one as a gift /o/

The air around Noctis was soothingly cool. He opened his eyes to a field of blue.

“You found me here. I’m so happy.”

Noctis looked up from where he lay in the lush grass to find Luna standing over him, haloed by light filtering through the grey clouds. “Where…?” He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “The last thing I remember was… Ifrit… is everyone ok?” He jumped up to meet her, eyes wide.

Luna’s nose crinkled, her lips turned down, and although he’d never seen it before, he knew she was on the verge of tears.

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing the back of her hand with his fingertips. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, dear Noctis.” Her eyes were shining, and not from the light. A stone dropped in his throat. “I didn’t want to lie to you, but, but-” tears fell, her breath catching in her chest.

Noctis pulled her into a hug, trying to run through his memory to piece together what had happened. “Hey, hey, it’ll be ok. We’re together now, right?” Luna let out a sob. Noctis pulled back slightly to get a look at her face, but she just buried it against the side of his neck. “Am I… dead?”

“The covenants,” she answered in a muffled voice, “I had hoped things would change, that somehow they would be wrong, but the covenants had too great a toll on my body.”

Noctis jerked back, “What?!”

“I’m dying, Noctis, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.” She wiped at her damp face with long, elegant fingers.

“But-”

“I’m sorry, Noctis,” She was trembling, “I didn’t mean to deceive you, I just wanted… I just wanted to have a little time to be happy with you. If only for a short while. I hope… I hope someday you can forgive me.”

“No, no no, Luna. I saved you, it’s supposed to be ok now. No, I mean, why didn’t you _say_ something?” He couldn’t breathe.

“You did save me.”

He shook his head, gripping her shoulders. “No, I didn’t! You’re still going to die! What’s the point if I can’t save you? I didn’t… I didn’t need Ifrit, I was doing fine without him!”

“Noctis, we both made promises. Ones we must keep.” Her tone was resolute, but her glittering eyes were gentle, cutting out his tongue. “I accepted my destiny, as you must accept yours.” She brought their hands to her chest. There was no beating heart, just soothing warmth like her healing magic.

“It’s not right,” he said quietly, feeling childish in the face of her resolve. But it wasn’t _fair_ and Shiva must have known he was only bargaining for a handful of extra days without knowing it. And she had let him trap them both like an idiot.

“Noctis, my…my flesh is weak now. Please stay with me here. I know it’s selfish, but-”

He kissed her desperately, wrapping her in a tight hug, squeezing his eyes shut. “Anything, Luna, anything.”

“Thank you, my King.”

 

**

 

He woke three days later, sobbing.

“Hey, hey, Buddy,” Prompto got up from the small folding chair he’d been perched in next to the hospital bed.

“L-luna?” Noctis stammered out, even though he knew the truth.

Prompto’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing in a thin line. He reached out, paused, then set his hand heavily on Noctis’ shoulder. “She… she got real… real sick in the ruins. I- I tried to get you both to the hospital as soon as I- I could, but… but…”

Noctis folded, pressing his head against his legs, wrapping his arms around himself.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Prompto choked on the apology, sniffling. He kept a hand on Noctis’ shoulder, but started wiping furiously at his eyes with the other.

Noctis didn’t realize he was rocking until he felt cold fingers on the back of his neck, shocking him into silence. He stared at his damp hands, taking slow, shuddering breaths. “I saw her,” he admitted dully.

Prompto inhaled deeply, wiping his dripping nose along his forearm. “Huh?”

“Forming the covenants made her sick.” More tears trickled down his wet cheeks, “There was nothing we could do.”

“You… talked to her?” Prompto rubbed his eyes. “You were hurt real bad too; you’ve been out this whole time.”

“Maybe… maybe it was just a stupid dream, but…”

“But you knew she was sick?”

Noctis’ hands tightened in his lap. “She told me.”

Prompto sniffled again before responding. “Maybe it wasn’t just a dream, then.”

Noctis snorted. “It doesn’t matter, she’s still gone. I couldn’t save her.” Prompto opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and just left his hand right above the long scar running down Noctis’ back. Tears dripped into his open palms. Minutes ticked by. Noctis felt heavy and slow, and just wanted to sleep. To see Luna again. He lay down, rolling onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’ll… go… tell the guys you’re awake,” Prompto said quietly, pulling away. Noctis didn’t bother responding. He tried to dream, but sleep refused him, so he stared at the cream-colored wall, listening to the ticking of a clock.

 

**

In the inner sanctum of Zegnautus Keep, Noctis’ heart was hammering, the light of the Crystal washing him in warmth that reminded him of Lunas’ healing magic. His heart ached. He had abandoned his friends against a swarm of daemons for this. “Please, help me stop the daemons,” he implored the Crystal.

He pressed his palm against it. His hand sucked into the warmth like he was pushing it into a Flan. “Why?!” he tried to pull his hand out, grunting, but it was worse than a Flan, it was like cement crawling upwards.

"Unharmed by the Light, the Chosen King, indeed," Ardyn was sauntering down the long catwalk leading to the Crystal. Noctis frantically struggled to get his arm free, but it just sank in deeper. "Allow me to regale you with a tale." Ardyn's face was oozing black as he continued to stroll towards Noctis. "In an age long past, an incurable scourge ravaged mankind. A tiny menace that twisted men into monsters, the likes of which you've seen."

The Crystal was _eating_ him, and that bastard was just acting like they were having a leisurely chat. Is this what Ardyn had wanted all along? Was the Crystal eating him? Was he dying? Could the Crystal even stop the daemons?

"In Lucis lived a savior that could cure the afflicted." Noctis grunted, his leg disappearing along with his right arm as he was tugged backwards. He struggled to face Ardyn, not sure what the monster intended on doing now that he was standing before him. He was still so helpless. "His body would come to host myriad daemons, that countless lives be spared.

"But a jealous king, one not yet chosen by the Crystal," Noctis was briefly shocked out of his panic, Ardyn's words settling into his mind with nothing else to focus on, "ostracized and demonized, this healer of the people. Making a true monster of him."

Noctis glanced back to see that most of the right side of his body was gone, and he no longer had any leverage to resist the pull of the Crystal.

"I gave you my name earlier, but you should know that it was not the name given to me at birth. Ardyn Lucis Caelum is my proper name. You'll never guess whose name Izunia was." Noctis' heart stopped, and he wasn't sure if it was because of Ardyn's words, or because the Crystal had taken it. What the hell was happening? Nothing made sense!

"Noct, killing you as a mortal will bring me scant satisfaction. Claim the Crystal's power. Arise as its champion. Only once the Crystal and King are no more... can I know redemption." There was a vibrating hum in his ears, and Noctis realized he couldn't feel _anything_ anymore. "Come back soon. I shall keep your friends company until you're ready."

Then he was falling. Fast. Noctis screamed as everything went black.

"Gather strength, O Chosen." The words vibrated through him as he fell. The sensation slowed as he didn’t hit anything; it felt as if he were in breathable water, a warmness emanating in the sudden twilight around him.

He drifted down into the hand of a colossal, sword-winged dragon. Bahamut. Ardyn's words echoed in the back of his mind as he raised his head to the impassive metal mask the Astral hid behind.

"The fate of this world falls to the King of Kings. His Providence consecrated in the divine Light of the Crystal. So it is ordained – the revelation of Bahamut."

Noctis frowned. "Is it true, what Ardyn said? That he's a Lucis Caelum? That the Chosen vilified him for doing his job?"

"The Accursed," Bahamut rumbled, "One so impure in body and soul was not worthy of the Crystal's Light and forbidden to ascend. His mind twisted by spite and bent on revenge, the Usurper came to bring darkness upon our world. Only the True King, chosen by the Crystal and guarded by his forebears, can end the Accursed's madness."

"Why? Why do I have to do it?" Noctis shouted up at the monolith, hands balled into fists, "You're the ones that caused him to seek revenge. The damn Crystal abandoned him! Are you going to reject me too for being the supposed Chosen King? How many people has the Crystal chosen?"

Bahamut's wings shimmered in the ephemeral light, impossibly still. "By the covenants awakened, the Six have seen the coming of the prophesized hour. Only at the throne can the Chosen receive Providence, and only at the cost of a life; his own."

"Oh? Is that how you get around it?" Noctis snapped, waving his hand, "Some bullshit rule that I have to die for you to get off your ass and save the world?" His heart was beating hard, and he could feel the Astral's displeasure, an uncomfortable tremor along his skin. He didn't _care_. "You're just going to throw me away when you're done with me? The way you did Ardyn? The way you did Luna?" He was shaking, but not in fear. "Why is she fated to die? Was _she_ too unclean for you _perfect_ gods?" Noctis knew he was crying, but he couldn't stop the flood of frustration that emboldened him.

"The King of Kings shall be granted the power to banish the darkness, but the blood price must be paid." Bahamut's warped voice boomed, vibrating Noctis' bones.

"Why?!" Noctis screamed, "Why does anyone have to die? Why won't you answer me?"

"Many sacrificed all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all."

"And whose fault is that? Huh? Ardyn's your mistake! Why don't _you_ have to make the sacrifice?"

"To cast out the Usurper and usher in dawn's light must cost the life of the Chosen."

Noctis realized he was grinding his teeth, his jaw tight, "You keep saying that, but why? Why did you kill Luna?!"

Bahamut let him go, and Noctis started floating downwards, the monster drifting out of his field of vision. "Enter into Reflection, that the Light of Providence shine within."

His memory was infected with incoherent strips of time, swells of foreign emotions. Shame. Disgust. Blood on a white dress. The taste of the sea. The feel of leather, choking. Cool fingers on his cheek. A heavy hand on his shoulder accompanied by his father's worn smile. Ignis' scared face behind dark glasses. His father's sword piercing his chest.

Noctis tried to scream under the weight of the alien memories crushing him.

The feel of Luna under his tentative, awkward fingers. Her smile.

"The Light waxes full. Go forth to the kingdom where the Usurper awaits. Reclaim the throne and fulfill the calling of the True King."

 

Noctis opened his eyes to the stone prison, for the first time wondering whose prison it had been. Umbra barked. Noctis heard Ardyn’s phantom voice over speakers that didn’t exist in that place. He walked in a daze, mechanically squatting down to retrieve the note Umbra had for him:

_We’re waiting in Hammerhead_

Umbra trotted after him as he boarded the boat his father had left for him. His cold hands skimmed the wheel and he wondered if his father ever survived his journey. Wearily he sailed to the shore of Galdin Quay. He knew better than to fight the daemons swarming there, instead sprinting for the highway where he hoped a truck would be accidentally coming for him.

He squinted in the sudden bright lights, lifting a forearm to shield his eyes as the driver pulled over.

“Uh…”

“Yeah?” Noctis responded as a reflex.

“Noct!” Prompto exclaimed, nearly knocking the teenager in the driver’s seat out the window in his haste. “You’re back!”

Noctis blinked, unconsciously smiling at Prompto’s bright face. He remembered him hanging limply from a device in Zegnautus Keep, both dead and alive. The smile faded away.

“This is Talcott! You remember Talcott right? Oh man, it’s so good to see you, Buddy! Get in before we get chewed on by daemons.” Prompto leaned over Talcott to punch Noctis in the shoulder. He reflexively smiled again. Prompto had tears in his eyes. Noctis climbed into the bed of the pickup, Umbra leaping in after him. They started driving.

Talcott opened the small slide window in the back. “Welcome back, Your Majesty,” he said in a much deeper, shier voice than Noctis remembered.

“Hi.”

“Iggy and Gladio are going to be so excited to see you!” Prompto exploded, almost mashing his face up against the plastic divider.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again,” Talcott added warmly, smiling.

“Yeah…” Noctis replied numbly, “You sure look different though. You… you both do.”

Talcott straightened, “You think so? Guess I’ve grown some these four years.”

Noctis felt his heart plummet. “Four years?” He echoed shakily.

Prompto chewed his lip. “Yeah.” His best friend shifted in his seat, looking away. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah.”

“You know,” Talcott said suddenly, startling Noctis, “ever since you disappeared, Your Majesty, it’s been nothing but nighttime nonstop.”

Noctis hated the way the now-teenager called him ‘Your Majesty’. Those words brought up a sour taste in his mouth and he had to suppress a full-body shudder. Four years of night.

“Lestallum still has light… thanks to the power plant- so people have started taking refuge there.”

Noctis’ throat constricted. It hadn’t been that bad before. “Only there?”

“Daemons move in, forcing the people to move out,” Talcott answered, tone tense. “People still swing by the garage at Hammerhead, but it’s not always for repairs anymore.” He glanced back at Noctis. “It’s becoming more of a ‘slayer station’, a base for daemon hunting. The garage’s still open though, while everything else is closing.”

“So um…” Noctis took a deep breath, grasping for a safe subject. “Cid, he still alive and kicking?”

Prompto snorted. “Cindy keeps trying to get him to move to Lestallum, but he’s just too stubborn,” Prompto grinned, but his gaze shifted nervously to Talcott.

“I wish he would,” Talcott added, “with all the daemons prowling around, more folk are getting hurt, or worse.”

“Iris talked the marshal into taking out the daemons themselves!” Prompto cut in, bouncing slightly. “‘Iris the Daemon Slayer’ they call her. Why does she get the cool names? I don’t have any cool names. What about ‘Prompto, the Totally Awesome Hunter’?” Talcott laughed, drawing another smile from Noctis. He felt so tired under the swell of new information.

“The guys spend most of their time hunting around Hammerhead. Prompto is _trying_ to impress Miss Cindy, but she’s already married to her work.”

“Hey!” Prompto’s face went red as Talcott chuckled. “That is not true! I mean, I’m not trying to impress Cindy, just if she’s impressed, I wouldn’t say no.”

Noctis stuffed down the spike of jealousy that boiled up with one of the foreign memories he’d been saddled with. He and Prompto had never been together. Prompto wasn’t dead. Noctis felt his hands shaking, so he hid them in his coat pockets.

“We’ve arrived, Your Majesty,” Talcott announced, pulling into the starkly lit Hammerhead rest stop. “Everyone will be so happy to see you.”

“Thanks, Talcott,” Noctis mumbled, climbing out of the truck.

Prompto jumped out after him, sprinting for the restaurant, and shouting, “Gladio! Iggy! Come look what we found!” All eyes turned towards them, and Noctis tried not to shrink under the scrutiny. He was supposed to be the Chosen, after all.

The sight of Gladiolus’ and Ignis’ worn faces, four years older, wiped the doubt from Noctis’ mind. He might not like the Six’s plans to save his friends and all the people who had sacrificed everything waiting for him, but it was the only plan he had to bring back dawn’s light. He didn’t have to like it, he just had to do it.

Maybe when he died he could see Luna again. The thought brought a smile to his lips. “Hey,” he greeted his friends.

“Hey?” Gladiolus rumbled, “That’s all you have to say for yourself after all this time?” He bumped his shoulder, snorting a dry laugh. Noctis tried to smile.

Ignis was watching him carefully. “Well, well, you kept us waiting.”

Something else the Astrals had forced on him. “Not like I wanted to,” the words came out tasting bitter.

“Let’s head inside,” Ignis offered, motioning towards the restaurant. When they entered, it looked like it was in the early stages of fortifications; boxes of ammo stacked in the booths. No patrons. Noctis sighed, frantically trying to weed through the tangle of memories to cull the ones that weren’t his.

Prompto hopped up on the counter, motioning him over. He pat the space beside him, all the while kicking his legs like a little kid. Noctis snorted, indulging him. Ignis pushed at the bridge of his glasses. Right. Luna had saved his eyesight. Noctis cringed. Silence settled in.

“Well, spit it out,” Gladiolus grumbled, “Where have you been?”

“Reflection,” Noctis said bitterly.

“In whatsit?” Prompto tilted his head at him, jiggling his leg.

Noctis shook his head. He shouldn’t do this to them. It wasn’t their fault he couldn’t get his head on straight, and it was good to see them. So good that they were all ok this time. None of them fated to die.

“Noct? Buddy?”

Noctis looked down at his hands, they were freckled with water. “Oh,” he muttered, wiping his eyes.

“What is Reflection, Noct?” Ignis tried, his brow furrowed.

“A new form of torture,” Noctis laughed, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry, it’s just good to see you guys in one piece.”

“You as well, Noct.” Ignis said slowly, the unanswered question repeated in his tone.

“Yeah,” Prompto added.

“So what next?” Gladiolus interjected. “We go to the Crown City, face Ardyn, and take it all back?”

“Not ‘we’,” Noctis said firmly, “I am going. I can’t lose you guys again.”

“Again?” Ignis prodded.

“Out with it, Noct!” Gladiolus snapped, “What the hell happened to you?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Noctis snipped back.

“Like hell it doesn’t! If you think you’re going back to Insomnia without us, you’re-”

Ignis held up his hand, silencing Gladiolus’ tirade. “The Crown City is packed with daemons, Noct, you will need our help if you wish to make it to the Citadel.”

“I have the Astrals. Let them handle it for a change.” Noctis glowered.

“That is true,” Ignis responded, “However, summoning them leaves you vulnerable. Without us there, I’d hate to think what could befall you when you’re in that state.”

“No,” Noctis returned, voice flat.

“Noct!” Gladiolus barked back.

“I said _no!_ ”

“How have you not changed in four long years?” Gladiolus exploded, throwing his arms out. “You look different, but you’re that same mopey brat!”

“Gladio-”

“Shut it, Prompto!”

Prompto shrank down.

Noctis slid off the counter. “Think what you will, it doesn’t change my decision.” He started for the door.

“What if you fail?” Ignis asked, tone clinical, “There will never be another dawn. Can you afford to risk the world on our account?”

Noctis felt like he had been skewered (he had been). He froze, hand on the door. He turned back towards his three loyal, devoted friends standing behind him. They always had his back. “Why are you always right?” Noctis sighed dejectedly. Ignis hummed back at him noncommittally.

“Woo! We’re going to take back the Crown City! Together! Go teamwork!” Prompto rocked back and forth, hooking his thumbs in his belt.

Gladiolus snorted. “He sees reason! I take it back, you have changed.”

“You’re a jerk.” Noctis smiled.

“Let’s have a meal and get some sleep. We can head out once we’re rested,” Ignis advised.

 

**

The fingers in Noctis’ mouth tasted like oil and dirty coins, the sound of his groan muffled by the intrusion. Ardyn was pressed against his bare back, deep inside him, chuckling in his ear. He wanted to crawl away, but his arms were lashed to his stomach with thick straps of black leather.

Noctis felt like he was being torn open from the inside, but Ardyn was just getting started. The Accursed built up a slow, leisurely rhythm inside him, drawing out whimpers as his skin tingled. Jagged nails were buried in his already bruised hip, drawing blood, lifted to give Ardyn better access. The Usurper’s body rocked his face against the filthy sheets, smearing drool along the stains already there.

Noctis resisted the urge to gnaw on the fingers lazily dancing along his tongue, knowing well what Ardyn was capable of if he disobeyed.

“Come on, Noct,” Ardyn drew out, sending a shiver through him, “show some more enthusiasm. That darling MT is watching. Oh, I’m sorry, _Prompto_.”

Noctis let slip a whine thrumming deep in the back of his throat, before he closed his mouth over the intruding fingers, sucking and lavishing attention on them with his tongue. He tried not to gag.

“That the best you can do, for dear Prompto?”

Noctis swallowed, tightening around Ardyn, his face burning. He couldn’t bear to look up at the two-way mirror as he swayed back against Ardyn, impaling himself. He didn’t want to see his best friend watching, strapped to some machine, also a prisoner of the madman. But Ardyn had promised, Noctis reminded himself as he let him do all the work to get him off, that he wouldn’t touch Prompto if he just gave in.

Ardyn pulled his fingers out, trailing saliva and black ichor down his chin, before grabbing him by the hair, tugging his head up to the tune of his rattling chain. On the other side of the mirror Prompto was screaming his name.

“Noct! Noct! Wake up!”

Noctis jolted, railing against the man touching him.

Gladiolus was holding him down before he realized he was in the cramped trailer in Hammerhead, left with either a nightmare, or the taste of a bad memory in the back of his throat, like bile.

“You back with us?” Gladiolus asked. Beyond his shoulder Prompto was holding his nose, a few droplets of blood seeping between them.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Prompto’s voice was muffled, “it’s my own dumb fault for trying to wake you.”

“No, I shouldn’t have…” Noctis cringed. Gladiolus lifted off of him.

Ignis handed Prompto a potion, but was staring at Noctis. “Another effect of Reflection?”

Noctis swallowed, mouth dry. Ignis passed him a bottled water. He took it, ducking his head. “I’m sorry, I woke everyone didn’t I?”

“I think we’ve rested enough,” Ignis said diplomatically. “Shall we prepare to reclaim the city?” Noctis nodded. They changed into their Crownsguard attire in silence, Prompto stealing occasional questioning peeks at him. His suit was a little too big on him.

They left Hammerhead with no fanfare, piling into the back of Talcott’s truck. He dropped them outside of Insomnia and wished them luck. The teenager didn’t drive away, just left the headlights on to light the way.

“Home, sweet home,” Gladiolus said as they started down the long road to the Citadel.

“Yeah, at long last,” Prompto added in a low tone.

“What we’ve been waiting for.” Ignis pushed up the bridge of his glasses.

“It sure is,” Prompto agreed softly.

Gladiolus rolled his shoulder. “Next stop, the Citadel.” The three Crownsguard strode forward.

“Yeah.” Noctis paused to put on the Ring of the Lucii. It burned. He pursed his lips, watching the backs of his friends, before joining their ranks again.

Ignis had been right on the mark, Insomnia was crawling with daemons, more than Noctis remembered. Each step drew more to them, until they were surrounded. Gladiolus swung his greatsword in a wide arch, creating a corridor forward. Prompto picked off the stragglers, clearing the path. They ran.

“Head for the subway!” Ignis shouted over the roar of the Starscourged humans swarming them. They waded forward, carving their way through the horde.

Prompto fell first, an Ayakashi carving into his leg. Ignis drove his lance into its torso, driving it away from the blonde spilling blood on the ground.

“Prompto!” Noctis flung his daggers to warp-strike another daemon lunging for him.

He heard the sound of a roaring fire, saw the sea of daemons around them, and thanked the God, letting go.

Heat seared Noctis as out of the ground a hand rose, clutching him in a tight grip. The Infernian clawed his way out of Eos’ belly, aflame. Ifrit drew his glaive out of the depths and swept it in a huge arch, spewing Hellfire. It seared everything in its path to embers that floated on the shockwave that followed.

Everything burned.

Everything died.

Including his friends.

“No!” Noctis screamed.

Ifrit threw his head back, howling, as Noctis slipped through his fingers and dropped to the ground. His knees buckled and he fell into the indiscriminate ash. Ifrit disappeared in a gout of flame.

As soot-stained tears dripped down his face, pure hatred ignited in Noctis’ heart.

It took several minutes, but eventually Noctis climbed back to his feet, walking the deserted streets of Insomnia. Alone.

Ardyn met him at the steps. “Where are your-”

“How do I kill the Astrals?” Noctis cut in, jaw set.

Ardyn looked genuinely surprised, and then a long, slow smile split his face impossibly wide. “Why, with your ring, of course.”

“I’m going to bring back the dawn too. So if you intend on trying to stop me, get it over with now.”

Ardyn spread his hands, “I’m willing to compromise. Let’s bring back the dawn, O Chosen King.”

Noctis wiped his face, smearing soot like war paint. “How?”

“We go where they’re most vulnerable. The Beyond.” Ardyn’s smile softened. “Full disclosure, it’s going to kill you.”

“Fine.”

The Accursed tsked. “They really did a number on you, didn’t they? I’m almost jealous.”

Noctis didn’t respond, venom in his silence.

Ardyn motioned towards the entrance to the Citadel, “Lets seat you on the throne, King of Kings.”

“Don’t call me that,” Noctis snapped, stalking up the stairs.

“Whatever you say, Noct.” Ardyn bowed, then joined him on his way to the throne room.

Everything was lit and working, arranged just for him. It was creepy to see it so silent and empty. Ardyn held his tongue through the elevator ride, although his expression telegraphed he was positively giddy.

Noctis didn’t care. Everything he loved was gone, and it was the Six’s fault. They would pay. He took the stairs to the ruined throne two at a time until he stood before it, chest constricting. He was still going to bring back the dawn. He wasn’t failing his father’s people. He was doing what he was chosen to do. He was still fulfilling his duty. He was just so...

“The Starscourge is Ifrit’s fault, by the way,” Ardyn whispered in his ear. “Daemons are a virus the Infernian inflicted upon us poor humans out of jealousy.”

Blind rage was a howling wind in Noctis’ ears. His face darkened as he took his rightful place, sitting heavily on the throne, smearing ash on the armrests. He thought about his corpse-strewn journey, all the death that led up to that moment, all of his alien memories of failures, and drove his father’s sword into the platform, “Kings of Lucis, come to me!”

The room glowed with the light of the 13 kings. One by one they blessed him with agony, absorbing into the ring until the 13th king was left. Noctis took several deep breaths, trying to steady himself, before offering up his father’s sword. “Dad, please help me,” he whispered through gasping breaths.

His father’s sword drove through his chest, kicking him back into the throne with the force of the thrust. Everything went white-hot, then faded to the twilight of the Beyond. Ardyn was there, waiting for him.

“Shall we give them a taste of their own medicine?” Ardyn asked with a smirk, holding out his hand. Noctis placed his right hand over Ardyn’s, allowing the Starscourge to seep into the ring. He felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside as darkness exploded out of him, turning the twilight to never-ending night.

Too late Bahamut’s swords skewered him from every possible angle. Noctis laughed soundlessly, fading into the dark.

 

Freezing, Noctis jerked awake in a world of black. He saw behind him that dawn had been brief, the Starscourge seeping out of the Beyond in dark motes, choking out all life. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners. He had to remember this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Noctis has a good memory.


	7. Year Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. This one was really really hard for me to write, so I apologize if it's really sloppy. I just couldn't do it anymore. *rolls around
> 
> Perspective switches between Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis instead of Noct, this time around.

“Stop yawning, you’re making me sleepy,” Prompto exclaimed before stifling his own reflexive yawn. Noctis glanced at him, bleary-eyed, making a non-committal noise. “Look, if you’re bored-”

“Not bored.” The prince mumbled, but he was just sort of staring at the pinball machine like he was trying to work out what to do with it. “Just tired.”

“Iggy not letting you nap while you prep for finals?” Prompto asked, nudging his friend’s drooping shoulder.

“Weird dreams.” Noctis yawned again.

Prompto scrunched up his nose. On the rare occasions Noctis had felt like divulging anything about his active dream life, all the dreams had seemed weird. Way more interesting than his, if he skipped the nightmares. Noctis didn’t have nightmares. “Like what?”

Noctis shrugged, pushed the button on the side of the pinball machine to release a ball, and became solely absorbed in the geometry of the game.

It was hard not to take it personally when Noctis clammed up. He knew that was just Noct-e-ness, but sometimes it made Prompto worry that the prince was just indulging him and didn’t actually want him around.

But then sometimes, when no one was looking, Noctis would crack up at something Prompto said, they’d bump fists, and Prompto would have to pretend his heart wasn’t thumping against his chest really hard. He tried to memorize all the details of those moments for times like now, when he felt so useless.

Prompto tried to focus on the ball bouncing between the panels, watching the pretty lights and listening to the sound effects competing with the noise pollution of the other games. “Once I had a dream Mrs. Bellwater turned into a daemon and tried to eat me. That’s math for you,” Prompto blurted out. He picked at the wristband covering his right wrist. Noctis didn’t look up, but he snorted, a corner of his mouth quirking. A small victory.

 

**

Prompto gnawed on his pencil, trying to command himself to focus on the little numbers and symbols in way too small font on the textbook page, but his brain was melting. He exhaled an exaggerated breath, looked up to complain to Noctis for moral support, when he shut his mouth in surprise. His friend’s eyes were closed, head bowed, lips slightly parted, and he was swaying. Falling asleep while studying was a new low, even for Noctis.

Prompto snapped his book closed. Noctis’ head jerked up, his knees hitting the table as he flung his pencil. Prompto laughed, hand slapping the table. “Oh, Buddy, sorry, I just couldn’t resist.”

Noctis glared at him, retrieving his pencil. Prompto respectfully reduced his volume to giggles. “Jerk,” Noctis huffed, “I was actually asleep.”

Prompto rolled his eyes, “That’s your natural state, Noct.”

Noctis stared down at his paper. “Not lately,” he mumbled.

“Wait what? You can’t sleep?”

“Get to sleep just fine,” Noctis pursed his lips for a moment, “But I keep waking up. Weird dreams. Like for the past month I think.”

“A month?” Noctis continued staring down at his paper, his brain clearly continuing the conversation without Prompto. “Sorry Noct, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have done that.”

His friend shrugged. “It’s fine.”

Prompto pressed down on his right leg under the table, trying to stop it from jiggling nervously. “Is it the same dream?”

Noctis shook his head. “They just feel really… real?”

“What are they about?”

Noctis scrubbed his face with his hand. “Just stuff. Sometimes they’re fine, just other times they’re… not.”

“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.”

“For a month?”

“Yeah.”

“That seems like, uh, I don’t know, a _problem_.” Prompto chewed on his lip. “Have you told Iggy?”

Noctis furrowed his brow in displeasure. “Why? They’re just dreams.”

Prompto clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t fault the logic, and he could feel Noctis on the edge of walling himself off again. He didn’t want to push it and irritate him. “Well, I won’t rat on you if you want to take a nap instead of studying. In fact, I am in full support of _not_ studying.”

Noctis gave him his patented half-smile, then stretched. “A couple rounds of King’s Knight?”

“Best. Idea. Ever.”

They abandoned their textbooks for Noctis’ couch, creating a nest of snacks and soda. Prompto turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until he found an old movie that would make good background noise.

They were in the middle of a match when Noctis slid sideways into him, head rolling against his shoulder, phone slipping from his fingers into his lap. Prompto froze. His soft breathing was even and deep, black hair falling in his face. “Uh, Noct?” He tried, but his friend didn’t respond. Prompto’s leg started to bounce. He quickly pressed it into stillness. He wracked his brain for the proper protocol for when your best friend falls asleep on your shoulder after admitting he’d been sleeping like ass for a month. He wanted to let Noctis sleep, but wouldn’t it be weird when he woke up and found out he’d been using him as a pillow and he hadn’t done anything?

He deliberated for a good ten minutes of Noctis leaning into him, before he decided it would be weird, and started the tricky process of extricating himself. He propped up Noctis as he slid out from under him, then slowly lowered him to the couch. As quietly as he could he packed up his backpack, constantly checking over the back of the couch to make sure Noctis was still asleep, face slack, beneath his fringe of hair.

Prompto was in the process of closing the door when he heard a sniffle from inside the dark apartment.

“P-Prom?” Noctis sounded terrified, his voice tiny.

Prompto’s heart dropped. “Hey, I’m right here.” He slipped back into the apartment, heading to the couch. Noctis was sitting up, dark blue eyes wide and darting. They settled on him and the rigidity relaxed.

“Oh.”

“You ok?”

Noctis rubbed his face, black hair flattened where he’d been lying on his side, strands sticking to his cheek. “Uh, I fell asleep?”

Prompto didn’t miss that his best friend didn’t answer the question. “Yeah, I didn’t want to wake you, so I was just about to exit stage left.”

Noctis stared down at his hands, right one clenching like he was testing something. “I’m sorry about the train.”

Prompto’s mouth fell open as he wracked his brain for what they’d been talking about on the train that day; they’d mostly played King’s Knight. “Huh?”

“Ardyn tricked me, but I shouldn’t have… I wanted to go back for you, but the train…” Noctis shook his head, hands tightening in his lap. He was pointedly not looking up at him.

Prompto wrestled with the nonsense that had just come out of his friend’s mouth, grasping for anything that made sense. “Who’s Ardyn?”

Noctis finally looked up at him, blinking a few times owlishly. “Who?”

Prompto blinked back at him. “You said somebody named Ardyn tricked you?” He prompted, trying to hold together the threads of the bizarre conversation. “Who’s Ardyn?”

“I don’t…” Noctis stared at his dark apartment, eyes roving over the table with his books, the messy kitchenette, and then finally back at Prompto. “Finals are in a week… right?”

“Please don’t remind me,” Prompto groaned, not sure what else to do with the rather unsettling question. Noctis snorted, going almost boneless in relief. “Weird dream?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He was dismissed. Which means he’d pried too much with that one little question. Prompto started to open his mouth, to make a case for sticking around, but chickened out. “Yeah, see ya”.

Noctis walked him out, and he heard the click of the lock behind him. He went halfway down the hallway to the elevator, then stopped, looking back towards the closed door. He sighed dejectedly, then kept walking away.

**

Prompto washed his hands, careful not to get his wristband wet. He dried his hands on his slacks as he left the bathroom, letting the sounds of the arcade wash over him. Noctis had dozed off on him again on the train ride to the arcade. Prompto didn’t want to make a big deal of it, because Noctis was trying really hard not to, but his friend had been a zombie all day.

Prompto slowed down as he caught sight of Noctis, right where he’d left him, but the gun controller was hanging loosely from his grip and his lips were moving like he was talking to the game.

“He’s trying to tell me something… but what?” Noctis cringed, then looked straight at Prompto. “No, but there’s a path!” He shouted at him, “Gonna see where it leads.” He looked dazed, eyes glassy in the reflection of the flashing lights. Prompto was thankful that no one seemed to have noticed the outburst over the din of all the arcade machines. Noctis waved the gun in his direction, “You too!”

Goosebumps rippled up Prompto’s forearms and he wondered if he was in a nightmare.

Noctis looked away from him, the controller slipping from his fingers to thump against the arcade cabinet.

“Noct?”

The prince’s brow furrowed. “How’d you get down here so quickly? Where’s Ignis?”

Prompto shifted, glancing around the room. “Uh… Iggy didn’t come with us.”

“Of course he-” Noctis looked at the ground, then around at the arcade. He frowned. “Oh. Did I fall asleep again?”

Prompto licked his lips, mouth dry. “Buddy, I… I think you were hallucinating. You really need to get some sleep.”

Noctis shook his head, “Can’t.”

“The weird dreams? Can’t you ask Iggy to get you something? Like… drugs?”

Noctis snorted. “I think I’m just going to head home.”

Prompto felt his heart rate climbing. “Not by yourself you’re not.” The intensity of the prince’s frown showed his Highness wasn’t pleased with the idea, but he resolved he wouldn’t budge this time. Hallucinations would not be tolerated. “Well, come on, let’s get your crazy ass home,” he teased, trying to soften the blow to his friend’s ego. He was rewarded with a dramatic huff, but no argument.

Noctis was sleeping on him before they’d even pulled out of the subway station. It wasn’t a long trip, so Prompto ignored the weird looks he was getting and tried to stay as still as possible while is best friend breathed against his neck.

When they were getting close to their stop, Prompto shrugged his shoulder. “Noct, wake up.”

His friend looked up at him, bleary-eyed. “Huh?”

“We’re here.”

“Oh.” He stood, swaying with the train, then grabbed a pole before he lost his footing. “Oh.”

Prompto wished he had Ignis’ number, because he wanted to call him and ask him what he should do. Instead he helped steady his friend, and they got off the train at their stop.

It took Noctis two tries to get his keys in the door. Prompto was struggling to come up with a good argument to stay so he could make sure Noctis didn’t sleepwalk into traffic, when Noctis grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. “W-what? Noct?!”

The prince didn’t let go until he’d stumbled them straight into the bedroom, where he shed his jacket. And then his shirt. And then his pants. In front of Prompto like it was the most natural thing in the world. Prompto just stood there dumbly, brain shorting out. Noctis crawled onto the rumpled bed, nestled under the covers, and then just stared at him.

Prompto touched his face to make sure it wasn’t on fire.

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” Noctis asked in his irritated sleepy voice.

Prompto gawked. “W-well _yes!_ Yes, I think in this case I would definitely need an invitation!”

Noctis graced him with an entirely new kind of smile that made Prompto swallow reflexively. The clearly delirious prince patted the mattress. “Come on. I’m sleepy and I sleep better when you’re here. That good enough for you?”

Prompto continued to gape at him, not sure of the proper protocol when your prince was acting bananas. Would it actually help Noctis sleep? He pursed his lips. “You sure?”

“Yesssssss,” Noctis rolled his eyes at him, then squirmed further under the blanket.

“O-oh…kay.” Prompto stuttered, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed.

Noctis had the nerve to look at him like he’d lost his mind. “Don’t put your dirty ass pants on my bed.”

Prompto jumped up. “Sorry!” He fidgeted. Noctis waited. He very slowly started to undo his belt, eyes on Noctis, waiting for the moment his friend burst out laughing.

“Hurry up.”

Were there laws against this? Prompto’s entire body felt hot as he awkwardly hopped out of his pants, Noctis watching him like this was a perfectly normal Thursday night for them. He shrugged out of his jacket. Noctis still wasn’t laughing at him. He started to unbutton his shirt, but then he froze. His wristband. Would Noctis notice if he didn’t take it off? Prompto’s heart rate went from frantic to nonexistent.

“You can leave it on if it makes you feel better,” Noctis said softly, “but you know I don’t mind. Right?”

Prompto ceased functioning.

What in the name of the Six did Noctis think he was talking about? He couldn’t possibly know about it, could he? He’d hid it so well. Hadn’t he? Had Noctis been pretending this whole time?

“Hey,” Noctis interrupted his thoughts gently, sitting up. “Sorry I brought it up. I just thought, when you hesitated, you were thinking about… that.”

“I- I have to go!” Prompto grabbed his pants and half ran out of the bedroom and to the front door, where he frantically tried to dress himself. Noctis came to the bedroom doorway, bracing himself against it. He didn’t say anything, just looked tired and sad. Prompto’s heart sank. Then he remembered this was all very very weird and not about him, and his bestie was asking to sleep with him and was hallucinating and generally out of his mind at the moment and shouldn’t be left alone. Prompto sighed. “Ok! Stop with the puppy dog eyes.”

Noctis gave him another one of those new smiles, where his nose crinkled a little and Prompto’s heart skipped again. For some reason. Then he yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth. “I don’t do puppy dog eyes,” he said as he turned around and headed back into his bedroom. Prompto picked at his wristband, shifted his weight restlessly, then shrugged. Fuck it. If Noctis laughed at him in the morning, he could deal. If it helped his buddy get a good night’s sleep, he’d embarrass himself for his best friend. Prompto followed after him, got re-undressed, and crawled into bed with his crazy prince.

Prompto held agonizingly still while Noctis shifted, nuzzling up against him; very warm. He started counting, listening intently to the prince’s breathing. It didn’t take long for it to even out into a slow, deep rhythm. Now what? There was no way he was going to get to sleep with another person nestled against him. He’d never shared a bed with anyone before, and being hyperaware of another presence made it seem impossible. How did anyone do it? Or maybe he was the only person who had a problem with it. It was probably just him.

Prompto picked at his wristband, playing with peeling back the edge. He couldn’t see Noctis’ face through his mussed up black hair. “Noct?” He prodded softly. There was no response. He raised his arm, examining it in the pale light from the moon. Noctis couldn’t possibly know. He rubbed his face with his hand, groaning. The ordered world had clearly jumped out the window that morning and fucked off, and he’d missed his chance to ask wtf. Prompto was certain it would be a long night.

Until he woke up from a deep sleep, like the tide creeping up the shore. Grey sunlight was making hazy shapes in the bedroom, and Noctis had rolled so that his back was pressed against Prompto’s side. He propped himself up to peer over the curve of his shoulder. Noctis’ eyes were closed, face relaxed, breathing still deep and even.

Prompto realized he was saved. Nobody needed to know that that night had just happened. With exaggerated slowness, Prompto slid out of the bed, retrieved his discarded clothes, and went into the main room, shutting the door behind him. He swiftly got dressed, and when that went uneventfully, he felt emboldened to start rooting through his friend’s fridge for something to eat.

He was halfway through his foraged ham sandwich when the bedroom door opened and Noctis came out, still in just his boxers, scratching the back of his head. Their eyes met. Noctis blinked, then turned around, went back into the bedroom and shut the door. Prompto started laughing. The prince came back out a few moments later in a pair of black sweatpants and t-shirt, hair still sticking up every which way. “Didn’t know you were here.” He plopped down across from Prompto at the table and snagged his plate, stealing the half-eaten sandwich. “Mine.”

“Hey!” Noctis made eye contact while he bit into his ill-gotten gains. Prompto looked away. “Did you sleep ok?”

Noctis tilted his head, “Yeah, actually. Were you here all night?”

Prompto’s heart stuttered, “Yeah, uh, uh, I stayed on the couch. The whole time. Yeah.”

“Really? I could have sworn…” Noctis shrugged. “Nevermind.”

“You were really out of it, Noct. You ok?”

“I feel… normal. It’s good.”

“Oh thank god.”

Noctis cocked an eyebrow. Prompto distracted himself by making another sandwich.

**

Prompto doodled boxes in the margins of his paper, pretending to reference his textbook as the professor droned on about ethics. He glanced up at the clock. Ten more agonizing minutes. Noctis, beside him, wasn’t even pretending to take notes. He was just staring at the teacher with a… death glare?

“Why?” Noctis shouted at the professor, causing everyone to jump. “Why do I have to do it?” He surged to standing. “You’re the ones that caused him to seek revenge. The damn Crystal abandoned him.”

The professor looked horrified. “Prince Noctis, please-”

“Are you going to reject me for being the supposed Chosen King? How many people _has_ the Crystal chosen?” Silence settled in the wake of Noctis’ fury, then the room exploded in gossip.

“Please sit down, Prince Noctis,” The teacher tried to be stern over the din.

Prompto grabbed Noctis’ hand, trying to tug him back down. “Noct!”

“Oh? Is that how you get around it?” Noctis spit out, jerking his hand away, “Some bullshit rule that I have to die for you to get off your ass and save the world?”

“Noct!” Prompto stood, blocking out the chaos around him. He latched onto his friend’s shoulders, “Noct! Look at me, Buddy!”

“You’re just going to throw me away when you’re done with me? The way you did Ardyn? The way you did Luna?” Noctis was trembling under his hands, tears spilling down his cheeks, eyes focused on some far-off point.

Prompto could feel the prickle of tears in his eyes too, ones born of complete panic. “Noct! Noct, buddy, _please_ look at me! I’m right here! Please!” Watery blue eyes locked onto him. Then stared down at his hands. “Noct?”

“Oh.” Noctis wiped his cheeks with his fingertips. “Wha… Prompto?” His voice cracked. “Why are you here?” He looked up at the front of the room, “Where did Bahamut go?”

Prompto wet his lips. “We’re in class, Noct. Can you- can you sit down for me?”

“Oh.” Noctis fell into his chair with a thump. He looked up at him, eyes large. “Is Luna alive or dead here?” Prompto felt like all the heat and air were sucked right out of him.

“Prompto?” A classmate called hesitantly, “I called the paramedics.”

He nodded numbly, then squat down in front of his fucked up best friend. Noctis was watching him expectantly. Prompto swallowed. “She’s alive.”

Genuine relief softened Noctis’ stiff posture. “That’s good.” He tensed again. “Are you alive?” His voice was so small, Prompto felt tears forming again.

“Yeah, Buddy, I’m fine,” he choked out.

“And Ignis and Gladio?”

“They’re fine too. It’s fine, Noct. Everything’s ok.”

Noctis smiled, but he was crying again. “Ok.” Then he blinked a few times, rearing back against his seat. “Did… did I fall asleep again?”

“Y-yeah, kinda. Look, the paramedics are coming. They’re going to take you to the hospital, ok? Everything’s going to be fine.”

Noctis groaned, a jarringly normal sound in the overwhelming chaos. “My dad is going to kill me.”

“No, no, I think you’re good on this one, Buddy.”

Noctis snorted. Prompto counted several heartbeats. When nothing happened, he unfolded his legs and slid into the chair next to Noctis, finally noticing his friend had a death grip on his hand. They waited in silence. It didn’t take long for the paramedics to show up. They checked Noctis’ blood pressure, made him follow a pin light with his eyes, and gave him a series of banal instructions that he silently completed without fail. Nobody acknowledged his presence, but Noctis didn’t let go of his hand, even when the paramedics walked them out of the building. He felt like a ghost.

“Do you want your friend to go with you?” Noctis nodded, and the paramedics finally looked at him. “Are you ok with that?”

“Yeah, yeah, anything,” Prompto blurted out. Noctis squeezed his hand, but didn’t look at him. They were guided into the back of the ambulance.

“Do you think I’ll get out of finals?” Noctis asked. His hand was shaking.

“Hey! What about me?”

“You’re out of luck.”

Prompto wracked his brain for something witty to say. He needed something. His mouth usually went on autopilot to fill the sound-void Noctis tended to leave. Where was that annoying motor mouth now? “Well, shit.” Noctis gave him a patented almost-smile. Clearly his standards for comedy were pretty low at the moment. “Maybe you can get some pity pastries out of Iggy.”

“Maybe.” Noctis looked out the back window as the road stretched out behind them, cars parting like the sea. “Where are we?” He added a few seconds later in a voice low enough so the paramedic wouldn’t hear.

Prompto’s heart lurched. “We’re headed to the hospital.”

“No, I mean, what city are we in? It looks a lot like Insomnia.”

His heart crawled in his throat. “W-we are in Insomnia.”

“Prompto,” Noctis was looking at him with an unfathomable amount of sadness, “It was destroyed, remember?”

Prompto looked to the paramedic for guidance, but she didn’t say anything. He squeezed his friend’s hand. “It’s gonna be ok, Noct.”

“It’s too late.” His tone was so matter-of-fact it sent a chill up Prompto’s spine.

**

Prompto chewed on his lip, leg bouncing unchecked as he waited in the lounge of the mental health ward. Ignis was towering over him, looking grim. “Thank you for coming, Prompto.”

“Yeah, of course. I would have come sooner if you’d asked. I mean, it’s been a week, I really wanted to-”

“It was not advised by the doctor that his Highness entertain visitors.”

“Oh.” Prompto shifted on the couch, eyes roving the room. “What changed?”

Ignis pushed on his glasses, weight shifting subtly. “He is convinced you are deceased, and it distresses him greatly. They’re hoping seeing you alive and well will help with his treatment.”

Prompto pressed his hand against his leg. “W-what’s wrong with him?”

“Noct has been diagnosed as schizophrenic,” Ignis’ tone was lead in his stomach. Prompto didn’t know much about the condition beyond the fact that it wasn’t something that went away. He sniffled, quickly wiping his eyes before he got out of hand. “Please try to remain as calm as possible,” Ignis continued, “He becomes agitated easily. But don’t indulge his… his…” Ignis pushed at his glasses again, clearing his throat. “Stick to what is true.”

“G-got it.” He didn’t. He really really didn’t have anything, but he’d been instructed to pretend he did.

“You have a visitor, Prince Noctis.” A woman rounded the corner followed by his best friend. His hair was limp, fallen in his downcast eyes. He was wearing the same black t-shirt and sweatpants Prompto had seen him in the week before, but the drawstring was missing.

Prompto surged to his feet. “Uh, hey Noct.”

Noctis looked up at him and smiled, but it was weary. “I know you’re probably not real, but it’s good to see you anyway, Prompto.”

“Same. Wait. I mean, I’m real, but it’s good to see you too.”

Noctis wiped his eyes. “I miss you so much,” his voice shook.

Prompto looked back at Ignis, desperate for guidance on how to keep breathing. The royal retainer set a hand on his shoulder, lightly pushing him forward. “You’re with us, in Insomnia,” Ignis prompted, “at the hospital, your Highness. There’s been no treaty, and the city is intact. Remember?”

Noctis nodded. “Right, I’m in the past again.”

“It’s the present, your Highness.” Noctis shifted his attention to Prompto. Ignis cleared his throat. “We’ll leave you two to catch up.”

Noctis didn’t respond, just sank onto the couch. The nurse and Ignis left the room.

“Um… um…” Prompto sat down, struggling to look at his best friend.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Prompto snorted. “That’s kind of my thing, Dude.”

Noctis gave him a tiny, faded smile. “I’m just glad you’re here.” Prompto tried to force a pleasant lie past his lips. “You know, sometimes I wish we really would have run away. Maybe things would have turned out better.”

It felt like a nightmare. The one where everyone around him was speaking gibberish, until he realized it was just that he couldn’t understand anyone. “Where would we go?”

“You really liked Wiz’s chocobo ranch. We could feed chocobos and race them, like, professionally.”

Prompto forced a smile. “I love chocobos, I am all for this plan.”

“I know. You would not shut up about them,” Noctis responded with a wistful smile.

“I don’t remember…” Prompto trailed off, realizing they probably weren’t having the same conversation. His heart hurt. But how weird that Noctis’ delusions left room for random conversations about chocobos. Prompto had figured all hallucinations were supposed to be bigger than real life.

“It’s ok,” Noctis said, “I didn’t realize how important all that little dumb stuff was until it was gone, either.” Noctis put a hand over the fists Prompto realized he had bunched in his lap. “Tell me about what you did yesterday.”

Prompto started crying.

**

56… 57… 58… sweat dripped down Gladiolus’ temple as he pushed himself, trying to draw out the thoughts gnawing at his brain. What use was a shield against phantom daemons? How had he not hardened the prince against simple nightmares? Ignis said it was more complicated than that, but Ignis thought everything was more complicated than it needed to be. Factors and angles that were invisible to Gladiolus, like the prince’s enemies. He had no defense against that, and would probably be reassigned, as Noctis’ lucid moments waned with every passing day. Gladiolus snapped his attention back to his workout; the physical sensation of movement and exertion.

His phone buzzed on the bench. Gladiolus glanced at the caller ID, quickly snagging it before it went to voicemail, “Ignis.”

“Ah, Gladio, you are there,” the relief in the chamberlain’s voice was blatant. “I require your assistance.”

“What happened?”

“I have little time to explain. Can you be at the hospital in ten minutes? I will bring you up to speed along the way.”

Gladiolus realized Ignis was speaking in a raised whisper. He grabbed a towel and sprinted for the gym parking lot. “On my way. Can you talk?”

“Yes, I believe I am safe, at the moment,” Ignis said smoothly, despite the ominous words.

“Safe? Has there been an attack? Is the prince ok?” Gladiolus fished for his keys, smashing the phone between his ear and his shoulder to keep his hands free.

“He is,” there was an audibly shaky breath on the other end of the line, “physically sound.”

Gladiolus got into his car, revving the engine to life to peel out of the parking lot. “I’m on the road now. Ignis, what do you mean?”

“The prince is…” another shuddering breath, “Noct is having a very bad… episode.”

Gladiolus growled. “Iggy, I can’t do anything-”

“He’s attacked several staff members and patients,” Ignis rushed out over his protest. “He believes them to be Magitek Troopers. And I have been unable to calm him. I don’t-” The normally composed man’s voice shook, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Attacked?” Gladiolus ran a red light to a trail of blaring horns. “He’s gotten physical before, but you’ve never referred to it as-”

“He’s using the Engine Blade, Gladio.”

Gladiolus cursed. “So he’s…” he didn’t want to finish the thought.

“Yes. Many of them have passed on. I’ve provided what medical assistance I can, but…” Ignis trailed off, the strain eating up his words.

“Where is he now? Where are _you_ now?”

“I’m not sure. He was searching for the Crystal. I told him it was on the roof to get him away from everyone. I don’t know how long that lie will last.”

“Hang in there, Iggy, I’m almost there.”

“Yes, thank you.” He heard a steadying inhale of breath. “I am on the sixth floor, in the security office. I found some sedative, but I’m afr- I can’t get near him. I’m sorry.”

“No, you were right to call me. I know how he fights.” Gladiolus said grimly. Ignis didn’t respond.

People were running out of the hospital when Gladiolus screeched to a halt outside the emergency room doors. He jumped out of the car, pushing his way through the throng of people swarming a lone security guard.

“I’m coming in, Iggy. Can you meet me in the stairwell?”

“Of course.”

Gladiolus charged up the stairs, finding the chamberlain on the landing to the sixth floor. He was rumpled, smeared red, and pale. His eyes were wide and shadowed, and he was white-knuckling his daggers. “What happens after this?” He asked shakily.

Gladiolus started, and then landed heavy hands on his friend’s shoulders. “One thing at a time. We get him calm, then worry about what happens next.”

Ignis nodded, pushing at his glasses. “Right. Shall we?” Gladiolus nodded, and they took the final two flights of stairs more deliberately. “He recognized me,” Ignis said as if he were giving an impartial report, “At least one of his versions of me. I’m hoping he will recognize you as a friend as well, and we can resolve this without physical violence. I just… wasn’t sure.”

“Got it.” Gladiolus opened his hand, surprised to find the great sword materializing into a heavy weight against his palm. “That’s a good sign.” Ignis kept his opinions to himself.

The door to the roof had been pried open, and they found the prince staring up at the night sky, Engine Blade held loosely in bloody hands. He turned towards them, eyes dark and unfocused. There were splatters of blood across his face and bare arms. He smiled, sending a cold wind blowing through Gladiolus’ body.

“Ignis, Gladio, I’m glad you’re ok!” Noctis took a couple steps towards them, but he was still dangerously close to the roof edge. “How did you get past Ardyn?” He frowned. “Where’s Prompto? Why isn’t he with you?”

“He’s just downstairs, your Highness,” Ignis spoke up, “no cause for alarm.”

Noctis’ body sagged. “Oh good. I was worried.” He turned slightly to look at a point in the sky. “I was just asking the Crystal to help me banish the daemons.” His brow furrowed as he looked back at them. “It will work this time. I think. It… has… happened?” He turned back, taking several steps towards the edge of the roof. Gladiolus’ heart leapt into his throat.

“Noct!” Ignis called, voice full of fear.

The prince didn’t seem to be listening, he just took another step closer to the drop-off, hand lifting into the air. Gladiolus lunged forward, clamping onto the collar of the black t-shirt, dragging the prince backwards so hard they landed in a pile on their backs.

The prince was quick, rolling over, his glassy eyes widened, twisted features darkening with anger. “It’s _you_ , you bastard! Where’s Prompto?” Noctis took a swing at him. Gladiolus blocked the sloppy strike, grabbing the prince’s wrist. The prince cursed, opening his hand. Gladiolus dragged them both upwards, ducking the materializing blade. His options were limited with them so close to the edge of the roof, so he dragged the furious prince closer to safety as he took a swipe at him. “Where is he?” He shouted, a hard edge of fear in his voice.

Gladiolus dodged another swipe from the bloody blade, and then kicked the prince in the stomach. He doubled over, the wind knocked out of him. Gladiolus threw him to the ground, pinning his wrists by his sides.

“Get off me, you pervert!” Noctis screamed, snapping at him with his teeth.

Ignis wasted no time. He dropped to his knees beside them, applying additional pressure to the Prince’s left arm to hold it still. The needle went in messily, but didn’t break. Gladiolus rode out the tremors, holding the thrashing prince down until he passed out. And then for several seconds after that. He looked to Ignis.

His breathing was stuttered. “We must… restrain him. Then I will update the King.”

“You do that, Iggy. I’ve got Noct.”

Ignis pushed his glasses back in place. “Are you sure?”

Gladiolus scooped up the limp prince carefully. “Yeah, I got him.”

“Very well.” Ignis stood, pulling out his phone.

Gladiolus headed down the stairs with his charge, taking him back to the ward on the sixth floor, where the beds had restraints. He strapped him in, then found a washcloth in the private bathroom to wipe away the blood. “How’d things get so fucked up, Noct?” The prince slept, features smoothed of the madness that had been there just moments before. He watched the prince breathe.

Ignis found him several minutes later, looking wrung out. He paused in the doorway. “Is he still asleep?” Gladiolus nodded. “Good.” He took off his glasses, covering his eyes with a hand. His shoulders shook. Gladiolus closed the door for him. “I’ve failed horribly.”

“Come on, Iggy, you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop this.”

“If I’d just seen the signs sooner, done… done something differently…”

“Nothing would have changed, and you know it.”

Ignis sighed, wiping his eyes. “Yes, of course.” He put his glasses back on. “The doctors had been discussing the idea of electroconvulsive therapy. I imagine it’s all but guaranteed at this point.”

Gladiolus decided there was no response to that.

**

Ignis dropped his pen, marring his meticulously kept notes with an indecent line. “Excuse me?” All of the council members turned to look at him.

“Ignis?” The King asked, raising his eyebrows at the interruption.

Ignis cleared his throat. “Can you please repeat that?” Ignis checked himself, “Your Majesty.”

King Regis tapped his finger on the conference room table, “About the proposed treaty?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” A murmur rose up from the council members, but Ignis kept his eyes focused on the weary king.

“There is a provision that the prince weds Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret.

Ignis could feel his heart pounding. “Thank you, Your Majesty. May I be excused?”

The king’s wrinkled brow furrowed further. “If this is about my son and the provision, the Council should hear it.”

Ignis adjusted his glasses, groping for the right words. He was treading on thin ice. Since the treatments had started, the king had not seen much of his son; and not because he couldn’t make the time. “No, Your Majesty,” he _lied_ , “I simply need to verify my facts first.”

Ignis could see the rise of denial in the King’s displeased frown, and then suddenly he just, softened, and waved his hand. “You are dismissed.”

Ignis did not waste any time in gathering up his things to make a hasty retreat. He had his hand on his phone before he was out of the room, but didn’t pull it out until he’d slipped into a spare conference room. He took several steadying breaths as he stared at the device. And then he called the only person he knew could possibly verify his suspicion.

Prompto picked up immediately. “Hey, Iggy, is everything ok?”

“Yes, no need to be alarmed, Prompto, but I did have some questions I was hoping you could answer for me.”

“Really?” Prompto inhaled sharply, “I mean, sure. Shoot.”

“You’ve listened to the prince, do you recall what he said about the treaty with Niflheim?”

“Uh… yeah…” There was a long pause before the blonde continued, “Wait, what is this about? You told me not to mind that stuff. You know, keep it to real things.”

Ignis sighed. “Please, indulge me.”

“O-okay. Um,” there was a loud rustling on the other end of the line. “He said he was supposed to marry Luna. But the treaty was really a trick so that the chancellor could get his hands on the Crystal.  Then he like, breaks everything, and then just gives it back.”

Ignis pursed his lips. “Yes, that is what I recall as well. Thank you for your time.”

“Hey! Are you going to tell me what this is about?” Prompto’s voice pitched higher, “When can I go see Noct again?”

Ignis sighed. “You know the answer to that question, Prompto. He’s still going through treatment and cannot be disturbed. And my question was just…” Ignis shifted his weight, staring at the tasteful, inoffensive art on the conference room wall, “…idle curiosity.”

“Bullshit. Please tell me what’s going on.” The desperation was sharp in the young man’s voice.

Ignis weighed his options. It was probably just an incredibly huge, suspiciously on-the-nose coincidence. But what if it wasn’t? Could he gamble all of Insomnia on his fear? “You cannot breathe a word of this to anyone,” Ignis lowered his voice, hand tightening on the phone, “but Niflheim has just proposed a treaty, and one of the points…” He suddenly felt very ridiculous and wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Holy shit,” Prompto breathed on the other end of the line, picking up the dropped thread, “So we’re going to go see Noct, right?”

Ignis sighed, rubbing his temple. “Please don’t get your hopes up, Prompto. But yes, I suppose we are.”

There was a lot of rustling, “Ok, ok… um, l-let me just, uh, get my stuff together, and I’ll-”

“I’ll pick you up. Where are you?”

“At my house. I’ll- I’ll be ready. Shit, what- what if this stuff is real? He- he-” The young man sounded on the verge of tears. And Ignis felt even worse for dragging him into his concerns.

“Please calm yourself, Prompto, we will learn the truth.”

Prompto sniffled. “Right, right. Got it. Deep breaths.”

“Very good. I will see you soon.” Ignis hung up, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Well, it was too late, he’d opened his big mouth to the Prince’s dear, and admittedly thoughtful, friend, it was too late to back down now. Ignis left the Citadel grounds, heading to his car. He called the clinic to let them know he would be paying his weekly visit a day early. They seemed surprised, but didn’t deny him.

 In the middle of the day traffic was light, so it didn’t take long for him to get to Prompto. The young man was shifting restlessly outside of his building, picking at a green wristband he always wore. He was to the car before Ignis had even made a full stop.

Prompto got in the car without an invitation. “What if that stuff is really real?” He burst out before Ignis could even manage a polite greeting. “Like, what if this really is the past like he kept saying? I mean-” Ignis started driving, realizing he wouldn’t get a word in edgewise. “I don’t feel like I’m in the past. But how would I know? I’m just a pleb-”

“I don’t think being royalty-” Ignis tried to correct him, but the hyper-active young man rambled right over him.

“-like maybe the Crystal showed him the future, or like possible futures, but that gets too confusing in a person’s head, and that’s why Noct was getting confused about what was real and stuff. Although some of that stuff seemed really bad, I don’t want that to actually happen, and what-”

“Please _stop!_ ” Ignis snapped.

Prompto sunk down in his seat, hunching his shoulders. “Sorry,” he said with as little impact as possible.

Ignis sighed, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. He should apologize. But despite all logic, he found himself sharing some of the concerns spilling from Prompto’s lips, and the implications were terrifying. They sat in silence for several minutes, and Ignis found himself wishing for the steady stream of chatter Prompto usually served up.

“Is Gladio meeting us there?”

Ignis’ brow furrowed. “I see no reason for him to be there. He’s had little contact with the prince…” a chill ran up his spine, “…beyond that… incident.”

“Oh.” Prompto chewed on his lip. “But he’d want to know, too.”

Ignis sighed again. “Very well, call him. We’ll be there shortly.”

The poor kid fumbled for his phone. “H-hey, Gladio. Um… well… Iggy and I are going over to see Noct, and Iggy asked me to ask you to come.” Prompto gave Ignis an apologetic look. He heaved yet another sigh in response. “N-no, nothing happened, we- he just thinks you should be there… Ok. Thanks.” Prompto smiled shyly, “He’s on his way.”

“Under false pretenses.”

“Well, you told me not to say anything about the you-know-what.”

“Right.” Ignis focused on the road, trying not to think about how much of a disaster the day was turning out to be. Prompto was startlingly silent after that. They didn’t have to wait long after check-in for Gladiolus to meet them in the clinic lobby.

“What is this about?” He was dressed as if they’d interrupted him during a workout.

“For now, just observe,” Ignis said before Prompto could open his mouth.

“You worried it’s going to get violent?” Gladiolus asked indelicately.

Ignis started to dismiss the idea, then realized he had no idea what would happen if they dredged up those terrible memories. Delusions. He couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions. “I have no idea.”

“Got it.” Gladiolus nodded.

And then they were escorted to Noctis’ room. The prince was sitting cross-legged on his bed, staring down at a book in his lap. He had trouble understanding words for several hours after each treatment, but that would have been the previous day. The prince raised his head, then his mouth turned down slightly. “Hi… guys.” He settled on, probably struggling to remember their names.

“Heya. Whatcha readin?” Prompto led the charge to occupy the room with the inoffensive decorations.

Noctis looked down at the book in clear confusion. He lifted one end to look at the cover. “A… Biography in… Photographs.”

“Oh cool.” Prompto hopped onto the bed. Ignis shut the door. Gladiolus leaned up against the wall, crossing his arms.

“How are you feeling today, Your Highness?”

“Huh?”

Ignis cleared his throat reflexively, even though he knew he’d spoken clearly. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh. Fine… I guess.” Noctis looked down at the book, then passed it to Prompto. “Here. You like taking pictures.”

“Oh… um… thanks Noct.” Prompto looked helplessly at Ignis. “Can I…?”

Ignis realized he had no idea how to proceed. He motioned for Prompto to continue.

Prompto shifted, still staring at Ignis. “Don’t get mad at me.”

Ignis’ eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s ok, Prompto.”

The young man tilted his head towards Noctis. “So, remember when you were telling me about the epic road trip we take in the future?”

Ah, so that’s what he’d been doing. Indulging the Prince’s fantasies. Yes. He _was_ a little irritated to learn that.

Noctis’ brow wrinkled and he stared at his hands. Ignis felt foolish. “Oh yeah. What about it?”

“We were going to see Luna, right?” Prompto picked at his wristband.

The prince smiled faintly, and then it faded. “She was… in that place… with all the water…”

Ignis felt sick. What was he doing, putting the prince through all this again just to satisfy his curiosity?

“Altissia, right?” The blonde prompted.

“Yeah.”

“Prompto, that’s enough, this was a mistake,” Ignis tried to ignore Gladiolus’ sidelong glance.

“But-”

“It’s hard to remember.”

“It’s ok, Noct. Don’t worry about it,” Ignis said quickly, trying to quell any protests from either of his companions.

Blue eyes focused on him with more clarity than he’d seen on the Prince’s face in too long. “Can you afford to risk the world on my account?”

Ignis felt everything rush out of him. “Y-your Highness?”

“I’m not going to lie,” Noctis continued slowly, still struggling through his words, “it’s easier in my head to forget, but something happened and you finally believe me. Is it the treaty?”

Words escaped him before he could think better of it, “Yes, Your Highness.”

Gladiolus pushed away from the wall. “Hold up, what treaty?”

“His Highness is to marry Lady Lunafreya, as part of a treaty with the Empire. Something Noct has been telling us for awhile now.” Ignis adjusted his glasses.

Gladiolus shook his head, “Wait. You’re telling me all of this has been…” he gestured helplessly.

“True,” Prompto answered, squeezing the prince’s hand.

“How? That’s not possible,” Gladiolus growled defensively.

“I can summon weapons and phase through solid objects. A dramatic dream prophesy is not off the table. Right?” The prince smiled faintly. Gladiolus grumbled, but didn’t have a counterargument. Noctis looked back at Ignis and Prompto. “Everything’s really fuzzy right now, but if you ask me questions, I might remember.”

Prompto shrank down. “Are you sure?” The prince nodded.

“You said Niflheim takes the Crystal. How do they get past the wall?”

Noctis squinted. “The… Signing Ceremony. I wasn’t there… I think… so I don’t know. No. I wasn’t there.” He shook his head.

“But the King… falls,” Ignis waited for the nod of confirmation from the Prince, “and then the barrier. What of the Ring of the Lucii? What befalls it?”

“Luna gives it to me.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully. “So Lady Lunafreya will be in Insomnia before the attack.”

“Luna…” The prince’s eyes were suddenly shining with tears.

“Hey, Buddy,” Prompto said gently, snagging a box of tissues for his friend.

Noctis wiped his eyes. “I hate I can’t ever seem to be there for her.” Prompto rubbed his hunched back, brows drawing towards each other.

“The future is not set in stone, Your Highness.” Ignis touched his glasses, “Even your… visions held inconsistencies.”

Noctis nodded. “Not everything… went together. It got really overwhelming.”

“Like different timelines?” Prompto offered. The prince nodded.

“So, if I get this right, we just somehow have to convince the King not to accept the treaty and we’re good?” Gladiolus asked.

Noctis looked at Prompto, idly flexing his right hand. “Have I tried that already?”

Prompto chewed on his lip. “Y-you told me once about a time you went into the Crystal instead of leaving Insomnia, b-but you got really upset, so we didn’t talk about that one anymore.”

Ignis pursed his lips, trying not to get annoyed at how flagrant Prompto’s disobedience to his instructions had been.

Noctis closed his eyes, then shook his head, opening them again, “No, I don’t know. But… I think it will still get dark if we protect the city.” He dug his nails into his arms, “I-I don’t know what to do.”

“H-hey,” Prompto pulled the prince’s hands into his lap before Ignis could do anything. Gladiolus tensed.

“One thing at a time, Your Highness. We will save Insomnia, and then talk about next steps.”

Noctis nodded, but he was shaking. Prompto squeezed his hands. “We’re going to save the Crown City. Together. Go teamwork?”

**

“Absolutely not! If what you say is true, you will see my son safely to Altissia!” The King sat in the small clinic conference room, gripping his cane tightly. Prompto flinched, leg jiggling.

Ignis bowed his head. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“Let me power the Crystal,” Noctis said, “I can strengthen the wall.” He was staring down at his hands.

“My Son, you are not ready-”

“I will never be ready, Dad,” Noctis interrupted, clenching his hands, “but I have to try, don’t I?”

The king reached out a hand, but Noctis didn’t see it. The aged man let it fall to the small conference room table. Next to Noctis, Prompto tried really hard not to squirm.

“You’re not well, Noctis.” The King’s words were so heavy they made Prompto’s heart hurt.

“You think I don’t know that?” Noctis lifted his eyes, hands clenching tighter. “I’m so damn tired, but this is finally something I _can_ do. To end this.”

The room fell silent. Ignis cleared his throat. Prompto could see Noctis’ skin turning red under his nails. He bumped his leg. “Breathe,” he urged under his breath. His grip softened.

“Your Majesty, wouldn’t it be better for the prince to take up the ring while you’re still able to guide him?” Ignis pointed out.

The King looked up at Ignis, then his brow furrowed, his gaze falling to his son. He sighed, body sagging. “I fear the burden already placed on you is too great, My Son. I cannot, in good conscience, put you under further strain while you are still recovering.”

“I don’t have much choice, Dad,” Noctis responded, “Never did. The ring goes with me either way, right? All you’re doing by saying no is sacrificing all of Insomnia, Lucis, and yourself, to buy me a few more weeks. You-” Noctis sucked in a deep breath, “You think I want _that_?”

The King looked like he’d been kicked back in his chair, and Prompto jumped at the suddenness of the gesture. Noctis was staring pointedly at the ground. Water droplets splashed onto the backs of his hands as he bowed his head. Prompto sat on his hands to resist the urge to give Noctis a hug in front of the King. He didn’t want to undermine him. He waited.

The King leaned forward again, across the small table, to place a hand on his son’s shoulder. Noctis didn’t look up. “I’m so sorry, My Son.” Noctis opened his right hand, little crescent dents in his palm. He held it up towards his father. Wordlessly the king removed the Ring of the Lucii. He very slowly set it in his son’s waiting palm. Noctis flinched, closing his fingers over the ring, drawing it to his chest. He started breathing very deliberately and deeply.

“Noct?” Prompto said accidentally, but caught himself before he let slip anything else.

Noctis’ hands were shaking as he put the ring on. And then he was screaming. Noctis fell against him in this chair, shuddering. He felt hot, like he had a fever. “Noct!” The agonizing sound stopped, and the prince sagged against him, breathing heavily. Everyone else was out of their chairs. The King put his hand on his son’s shoulders. Noctis looked up at them groggily.

“I command the old wall,” he whispered, and then went limp in Prompto’s arms.

“Noct!”

The King put a hand on his shoulder. “He just needs to rest. He will be fine, Prompto. Thank you.” Prompto flushed.

“Here, give him to me.” Gladiolus moved to the chair, gathering up the unconscious prince and taking him back to his room.

Prompto stood to follow uselessly after, but the King stopped him with a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Protect my son, as he protects the Crystal.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ignis answered for him.

“Y-yeah.”

“I have preparations to make. I leave the prince your care.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The King left the room. Prompto looked to Ignis, shuffling. “This isn’t fair to do to Noct, not after all he’s been through.”

“No, it’s not,” Ignis agreed, “But it’s his duty.”

**

“Noct!” Gladiolus shouted, grabbing the Prince’s wrists to pry his hands away from his arms. They’d left him alone for ten minutes. For ten _fucking_ minutes during the Niif assault, and there were already long, angry welts on the pale skin. Tears were streaming down Noctis’ face, and his eyes didn’t seem to be focused on anything. “Noct!” The prince pitched forward, shaking with open-mouthed sobs.

“Gladio, we need to-” Ignis paused, hand on the door. “Oh dear. Where is Prompto? He was supposed to-”

“Right here!” Prompto called, standing from the other side of the overturned couch. He was holding his hand to the right side of his face, blood dripping down his chin. “I’m sorry. Noct got confused about where he was,” Prompto’s voice was pitched high, words mashing together, “And I tried to calm him. So stupid. He thought I was that Ardyn guy, and I’m sorry! I had one job, and I, and I…”

Ignis shut the door. “Take this,” he pressed a potion into the frantic gunner’s hand. “It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not, Ignis,” Gladiolus barked. Noctis wasn’t resisting him, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. “We need the old wall, _now_ , and who knows where Noct is right-”

Ignis held up his hand, “Sit him down. I will handle this.” Gladiolus grumbled his frustration with the whole situation, pulling the prince over to a chair. He fell into it, shoulders still shaking from tears. Ignis knelt in front of him, motioning for Gladiolus to let him go. He did so very reluctantly. “Your Highness,” Ignis said in a tone far too gentle for the situation, “Noct, look at me.”

Noctis shook his head, “Don’t look at me,” he murmured, the words broken.

“Noct, you’re safe, with us,” Ignis continued with seemingly infinite patience, “I am here. So are Gladio and Prompto. Do you understand me?”

Gladiolus looked towards the door. The king was counting on them, Niflheim was breathing down their necks, and Noctis had about the worst timing ever.

Noctis sniffled. “Where’s Ardyn?”

“He is _outside_ of the wall,” Ignis emphasized, “where he cannot get to you, as long as it remains strong.” Ignis put a hand on the Prince’s knee. “You have not met Ardyn in person. He has not harmed you, and _you_ have the power to keep it that way.”

Noctis finally looked at the chamberlain. “I… haven’t met him yet?” He echoed in a small voice.

“That is correct, Your Highness.”

The prince sucked in a snotty breath. “What do I have to do?”

“The King needs you to deploy the old wall. To the Eastern Gate.”

Noctis nodded, wiping his forearm under his nose. “Got it.”

Ignis stood. “Thank you, Noct.”

Prompto handed a box of tissues to Noctis, a waded up ball of his own blood in his other hand. Noctis’ brow furrowed and he opened his mouth, obviously going to apologize.

“Noct, focus,” Gladiolus warned. The prince nodded and closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair. The Citadel shook to the sudden symphony of metal scraping against metal. Gladiolus could feel it in his bones.

Noctis opened his eyes. They glowed as if red light lay beneath the dark blue. “It is done.” And then he sagged, the light fading.

“How you holding up, Buddy?” The potion had healed most of the damage, but there were still welts dragging down the side of the kid’s face where Noctis had clearly tried to claw his eye out.

Noctis was getting worse under the strain of maintaining the wall while Niflheim kept chipping away at their defenses. There had been a brief respite after the initial attack on the city when they turned down the peace treaty, but since then, the Empire had dispensed with all pretenses of peace and had brought the full force of their army to bear on the capital of Lucis. Then at night came the daemons. It was only a matter of time. And the King knew that. Gladiolus looked to Ignis.

“Are you ok?” Noctis asked Prompto, his voice wavering.

Gladiolus tuned out the two kids licking their wounds, to focus on the chamberlain. “How do you want to play this?”

“We’ll appeal to reason. Then, if that doesn’t work, you know what to do.” Ignis turned his attention to the prince. “Noct,” he said slowly, “We must leave.”

Noctis started. “Where are we going?”

“The King has asked us to escort you to the Crystal.”

“What? No! The wall will disappear. The city will be unprotected.”

Ignis remained calm as Noctis jolted to his feet. “The King is aware of that. He also understands we cannot hold off the Empire indefinitely, so-”

“Yes I can!”

Ignis adjusted his glasses and Gladiolus tensed for a fight. “Can you give that assurance to Prompto?” All the color drained from Noctis so fast he swayed.

“Hey, Iggy, that’s not fair,” Prompto stepped in, “he didn’t mean to-”

“Precisely my point,” Ignis said coolly, even though Gladiolus knew it was killing him to be so blunt, “Noct, you cannot maintain the wall, but you might still be able to absorb the Crystal’s power and bring peace to all of Lucis.”

Noctis shook his head, “I- I can’t.” He let out a small whimper. “I can’t do it. I can’t face him again,” he was barely clearing a whisper, “I’ll be alone, I- I can’t do anything-”

“You will not be alone, Noct. We will wait for you, as long as it takes.” Ignis said firmly.

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed out.

“How could you doubt it? You said you came out on Angelgard? We’ll be there.” Gladiolus added, trying to smile reassuringly.

Noctis shook his head, backing up a step. “No, no, you can’t stop him. He’ll kill you, take you all away from me while I’m gone, and I can’t do anything,” The prince hugged himself, hunching, nails digging in.

“Stop that, Noct,” Gladiolus barked, and the prince jolted, but he was already dragging his fingers along his skin.

“No, no, please. I can’t,” he begged.

Gladiolus stepped in, prying his hands away again, “You’re going whether you like it or not.” He looked down at the trembling prince, “Now you can be a man about it, or I can drag you.” Noctis shook his head.

“Gladio,” Ignis warned.

Gladiolus huffed. “The Amicitia family has been the sworn shield of the king for generations. I know you’re not the king yet, but do you think I’m going to shirk my duties by letting some jackass kill me?” He snorted, staring down the prince until he looked up at him. “I know you can’t focus right now, so let me focus for you. It’s my job.”

The prince sagged, bowing his head; he leaned forward, against Gladiolus’ chest. “You’re a jerk,” he mumbled.

Gladiolus chuckled, awkwardly patting him on the back. “Sorry, just had to say it.” He could hear Prompto let out a gusty sigh. Ignis cleared his throat.

Noctis straightened, rubbing his hand over his face. “Where’s my dad?”

“He asked me to deliver a message,” Ignis said, “’I’ll see you on the other side.”

Noctis snorted, bowing his head slightly. Then he looked up at them, hands twisting together. “Now?”

“I’ll confer with General Drautos on the status of the wall deployment, but yes, it would be wise to leave while it’s still morning. It will give us more time to prepare.”

Prompto was bouncing, brow furrowed. “How long are you going to be gone?”

The prince’s threaded fingers tightened. “I don’t know. It keeps changing. I don’t know. I don’t-”

“Noct, breathe.” Ignis prompted. Thankfully the prince heeded his advice. His fidgeting relaxed.

“It doesn’t matter,” Prompto said, fidgeting in the prince’s stead, “We’ll be there. Right?”

“Of course,” Ignis confirmed.

Gladiolus grinned, “Damn straight we’ll be there.”

**

Prompto had run out of tears, but he couldn’t stop the hiccupping sobs that fell from his cracked lips. With the never-ending night it was impossible to tell how long he’d been lashed to the broken throne of Insomnia, waiting for his King to come. There was no one else left to save him. The monster in chancellor’s clothing had dismembered Ignis and Gladiolus, strewing their bodies around Angelgard Island where they’d been waiting, for Noctis to find.

Ardyn ran a finger along Prompto’s exposed barcode, chuckling. “Your Prince is on his way,” The monster whispered in his ear. Prompto’s heart lurched, hope mixing with a terror that Noctis couldn’t make it. “That is, if he can get past the Infernian.” And while he couldn’t see his face, the smirk in the man’s tone was very apparent.

“The King is going to s-stop you, you b-bastard!” Prompto choked out through chattering teeth, trying to force himself to believe those words.

Ardyn pet his limp, damp hair in a way that made his stomach turn and his skin crawl. He tried to jerk away, but the chains pinning him to the throne just cut further into his torn skin. “I’m counting on it, Dear Prompto.” He trailed his fingers down the back of his neck, causing the tiny hairs to stand on end as goosebumps rose along his flesh. An involuntary whine scraped the back of Prompto’s throat. The wandering fingers brushed his collarbone, pressing into the bruises already there. He yelped, jumping. Ardyn chuckled again, patting his head.

Suddenly there rose a chorus of loud clanging outside, a bright, bluish light highlighting the still-glossy features of the throne room.

“Bahamut,” Ardyn hissed.

Then a lilting, high voice spoke in a strange tongue. Frost formed along Prompto’s skin briefly, the cold seeping into his bones.

Ardyn hummed thoughtfully. “The Oracle must have made a covenant with Shiva before I killed her. How clever.” The sick bastard ran a hand through Prompto’s hair. “This might actually be fun.” The sounds of the blizzard raging outside quieted. “Straighten up, Prompto, your Prince is coming.”

The ding of the elevator heralded his arrival. Noctis came in, looking haggard and smeared with blood. His black clothes were torn and singed. Blue eyes locked on Prompto, the tired expression darkening.

“Noct!” Prompto cried out, jerking against the restraints.

The king ascended, taking the steps up to the throne in a mechanical tempo. “Why?” He whispered, brokenly, incongruous with the fury twisting his features, “Why do you have to always, always take _everything_ from me?”

From behind the throne, Ardyn was howling with laughter. Prompto couldn’t stop his heart hammering in his chest.

“N-noct?”

His best friend called his sword to his hand.

“Noct?”

The pain as the sword went through his chest was intense. The clear, bell-like sound of metal striking the back of the throne ringing in his ears. Prompto’s eyes widened as he tried to breathe, but only coughed up blood.

“P-Prompto?”

The sword invading him disappeared. Hazily he could feel his best friend’s hands press against the hole in his heart.

“N-no! Prompto! No! I’m s- I’m sorr- NO!”

Prompto wanted to assure his best friend that he understood, but the world was blurry.

And then it was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure. I am kind of stuck now. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE 10 F'ING YEARS??? T_T


	8. Year Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis tries to save everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to CarnivalDusk for pumping me full of ideas after the immense drain of Year Five.
> 
> And for all yall for the kudos and comments that make writing this trash fire that much more enjoyable. <3

The world changed after the daemon attack.

His father was gray and haggard, but when Noctis asked why, his father just looked sad and pat his hand. That’s when he saw his first vision- although he didn’t know what it was at the time. His father was holding him as they ran from a wave of Imperial soldiers, a girl all in white left behind.

Then he met the girl, Princess Luna. He asked her why her lace-trimmed white dress was stained with blood (he’d seen enough blood, felt it on his hands, to recognize it on her dress). Her brow furrowed with concern, and she touched his hand. And then he knew why she was always bleeding. A man with auburn hair stabbed her while he looked on, helpless. “O Prince! Your bride awaits!”

She was very nice to him, so he didn’t want her to get hurt. He vowed to never marry her, even if his father ordered him to.

He learned to hate being touched by people; especially his father and Luna. They dragged up weird images and feelings he couldn’t block out. He didn’t know what they were, and they were terrifying. By the time the soldiers came to kill them everyone had learned not to touch him. And that’s when he realized he was seeing the future.

He almost didn’t recognize Ignis when the retainer met them at the front steps of the Citadel, because he was burning, skin charring underneath the dancing flames. His eyes had popped from the heat, the fluid running down his face.

It was still hard to get his legs to move right, but Noctis scooted to the opposite end of the car, back pressed against the door as Ignis bent down to peer inside.

“Your Highness?”

Ignis didn’t seem to mind that he was blind and on fire. His father touched Ignis’ shoulder and didn’t burn. Noctis let his dad coax him out of the car and into his wheelchair; careful not to touch him.

When Ignis touched the handles of the wheelchair, it didn’t catch fire either.

“Does it hurt?” Noctis asked quietly.

“Does what hurt, Your Highness?”

“Burning.”

There was a thoughtful pause before Ignis answered; at least that was the same. “I… Imagine it would, Your Highness,” he sounded confused, like he didn’t know he was on fire. Noctis didn’t bring it up again. It wasn’t so bad when he didn’t look directly at him.

When they brought in Gladiolus for physical therapy, Noctis wretched. At first he didn’t know _what_ he was looking at, but the smell of rotting flesh turned his stomach. Holding his hand up to his nose didn’t help. Then he realized he was staring up at a man made of chopped up pieces, glued together with congealed blood and flies. Noctis bent over, puking on the floor. The Shield touched him, forgetting the rules, and guilt crashed over him as he saw those pieces strewn about a small island, and he _knew_ it was his fault, all his fault because he was weak and stupid and a failure.

Then the feelings washed away and he was lying in bed. His father, looking so old, was sitting in a chair beside him. “How are you feeling, Noctis?”

Noctis struggled into a sitting position, knotting his fingers together. “Can someone else train me?”

“Noctis, the Amicitia family has guarded our family for generations, you cannot-”

Noctis hunched down, “He scares me.”

His father let out an exasperated sigh. “Why?”

“He’s going to die because of me.”

His father started, then reached out a hand. Noctis cringed. His father let it fall to the sheets. “You don’t know that, Noctis. He trains hard so that he is strong enough to protect you and survive, just as his father has done for me.”

Noctis squinted. He knew better than to argue, his father wouldn’t believe him. He would have to find another way to save the retainer from himself.

 

It was easier to get used to Ignis than it was Gladiolus, because at least he didn’t smell. He knew they hated him. He couldn’t be touched, he was a picky eater, he wasn’t good at fighting and for a long time he was terrified of hitting Gladiolus because he didn’t want to knock him apart. He dreaded going back to school. He tried not to cry because he knew he had to go.

He had gotten used to the silence of the Citadel and school brought a barrage of noise and people getting uncomfortably close. But those people he could avoid. The worst was the blonde kid with a hole in his heart. It was a gaping wound that constantly seeped blood. Noctis’ hands always felt sticky and wet when he looked at him. More blood.

Noctis was hiding from the other kids during recess when someone interrupted the silence. “H-hello Prince!” He turned to find the kid with a hole in his heart walking towards him. He stiffened. “Would you-” the kid tripped over a hurdle he hadn’t seem to have noticed.

Noctis rushed forward before he had time to process it was a bad idea, “Everything all right?” He held out his hand to help the boy up.

Instead the kid looked at the red, digital camera in his hand. “Y-yeah, it looks fine.” Noctis frowned, something about the misinterpretation made his heart hurt. “Oh, uh, here you go.” The kid held out the camera to him.

Noctis snorted, “Not that.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.” Lying on his stomach, it was almost like the hole wasn’t there. The kid finally took his hand, Noctis pulled.

Prompto was sitting on the King’s throne. He had driven his sword through him. The hole was his fault. All his fault. He’d killed his best friend. How? HOW?

“P-Prince?”

Prompto was looking at him, eyes wide. Noctis stared down at his hands. He couldn’t see it, but he knew the blood was there. Prompto’s blood. His best friend. He’d killed his best friend.

The bell rang, breaking the trance. “S-stay away from me,” he stammered out before running back inside the building. He didn’t go to class, he hid in the bathroom, locking himself in a stall. It was hard learning he was a monster. He cried.

Noctis hid there until a hall monitor found him and took him to the office. His dad was furious. And Noctis couldn’t explain it. Everyone was right to hate him.

**

By the time he reached middle school, he learned to appreciate the isolation. It wasn’t like elementary school, where kids yammered at him and tried to touch him, now his title kept them at bay. Then someone slapped his back and he felt cool fingers on his cheek, a sad smile as he nuzzled up to a warm, solid body. Enveloped in a hug. He felt loved.

“Hey there, Prince Noctis!” Noctis froze. It was the boy with the hole in his heart. “I’m Prompto! Nice to meet you!”

Words. He _needed_ words. Ones that apologized and closed the wound in his chest. That explained his lack of acceptance was the opposite of hate. But he’d never been good at words, so he just walked away.

No one tried to talk to him after that.

He couldn’t shake that feeling when Prompto had touched him, though. Being enveloped and warm and wanted. He hadn’t even known the need had been there when Prompto had inadvertently dragged it to light.

He wanted that feeling again. Really bad.

But the hole in his heart was his fault.

Maybe he could fix it.

Maybe it was too late.

“Noct, is something wrong?” Burning Ignis asked him at the gate, holding the door open for him.

“No.” Noctis slid into the car, tossing his book bag aside. They drove off. He stared at his hands.

“How was your first day back at school?”

“Fine.”

Ignis gave up for several blessed seconds. Noctis stared blankly out the tinted window. “This evening, after your studies, you have sparring practice with Gladio. Regrettably Your Majesty is indisposed this evening, so you will be dining on your own. Do you have any requests?”

“No.”

“Very well, Your Highness.” The rest of the ride was in silence as usual.

There wasn’t actually much school work for his first day, so Noctis spent most of his time staring out the window before Gladiolus poked his head in the door, sending a waft of rotting meat Noctis’ way. He crinkled his nose reflexively. He knew the Shield always noticed, and found it offensive, but he just couldn’t stop the reaction even after a few years. He still looked repulsive.

“You ready, Noct?”

“No.”

Gladiolus rolled his eyes. “Too bad, come on.”

Noctis followed the corpse to the gym and put on his practice gear. He tried to focus, because it hurt if he didn’t, but his mind kept drifting back to Prompto, his best friend in his head. That he’d murdered for some reason.

“Noct!” The wooden greatsword went flying from his hand and he realized he was lying on his back, trying to suck in air. Gladiolus was bent over him, doing a visual scan for injuries. “What the hell were you thinking just standing there?”

Noctis coughed, pushing himself into a sitting position. The fingers of his right hand were numb. “Sorry.”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it on the battlefield,” Gladiolus growled, “You’ve got to-” Suddenly he stopped, brow furrowed. Noctis looked up at him. “What the hell is wrong?” He didn’t sound angry, just confused.

Noctis blinked, then wiped his face to find he’d been crying. “Oh.”

Gladiolus huffed, clearly out of his depth. “Did something happen at school?”

Noctis pursed his lips. He should say no, let it go. “What if you… want something really bad, but you know it will hurt someone else if you take it? Y-you don’t do it, right?”

The dead man’s brow furrowed. “Do you need this thing to survive?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Then you got it right.” Gladiolus squinted at him. “What is this all about?”

“Nothing,” Noctis said dismissively, climbing to his feet. “I don’t feel well, I’m done for today.”

Gladiolus didn’t respond, probably bewildered he’d said anything at all.

**

 His father’s words were like a bucket of ice water poured down his spine. “W-what?”

“You are to marry Lady Lunafreya. You will go to meet her in Altissia in the morning.” Noctis heard the sympathy in his father’s tone, but the edge was there as well.

“I can’t,” Noctis responded, body tensing.

His father looked flabbergasted, and then frowned disapprovingly. “What do you mean, ‘you can’t’?”

“I _can’t_ ,” Noctis pleaded, knowing he could never explain the truth, knowing his father would hate him even more for being so graceless about it. But Luna had been nice to him, sent him beautiful letters, the only friend he had, he couldn’t let her die because of him. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“It is part of your duty as the Prince,” His father started in a dangerously low tone, “to protect your people, even if it is inconvenient for you.”

“I know,” his hands balled into fists, his heart stuttering, “And I’ll do anything, _anything_ but this.”

“ _This_ is what is required of you,” His father emphasized the point sharply. “And I thought you enjoyed Lady Lunafreya’s company. Where is this resistance coming from?”

Noctis swallowed. How could he make his father understand? Why was he so awful with words? “She’ll… she’ll be… a target if we get married.”

His father’s expression instantly softened, and he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You have always been kind-hearted, in your own way, Noctis, but you have nothing to fear. We can better protect her once she is part of the family.”

Noctis sagged, hope dying, a tiny lump in his chest. “Yes, Father.”

He would have to find another way.

“I’m sorry you have to leave so soon, but time is of the essence.”

Noctis stared at his boots, struggling to keep breathing. Was it even possible for him to find another way? His father reached forward, Noctis flinched, so his father let the hand fall to his lap. “You know, your mother and I, our marriage was arranged as well, and I loved her deeply.”

The stone in Noctis’ chest was growing, icy layers of helplessness forming. “Yes, Father.”

His father sighed, exhausted by his pathetic son. The last reminder of someone he’d actually loved. Noctis’ shoulders hunched unconsciously. “You’re dismissed.”

Noctis nodded and left, heading towards his room. He’d briefly entertained the idea of getting his own place when he turned 18, but it seemed pointless when he had no visitors, so he hadn’t even bothered bringing it up.

Noctis sat down heavily on his bed, staring out the window. Maybe he could run away, but where would he go? He ran a hand down his face, realizing things were actually worse than he’d first thought. Ignis and Gladiolus would assuredly be going with him, and maybe that’s where they would become the hideous figures he saw every day. Noctis stood, his heart hammering. Then he sat back down. It wasn’t a matter of wanting to run away, he _had_ to run away, to save the people that cared for him. If he went to Altissia alone, maybe he could convince Luna to call off the wedding. Everyone would hate him, but he could survive with that.

Noctis stood, heading for the parking garage. Ignis caught up with him on the way, skin cracking under the eternal flame. “Where are you headed, Your Highness?”

“For a drive.” He kept walking.

Ignis fell in step. “Shouldn’t you be packing for the journey?”

“I’ll do it when I get back.”

“Noct, I don’t think-”

“I’ll do it when I get back,” he interrupted tersely, knowing the surly tone would shut him down.

Ignis sighed. “Very well, I will have your suitcase prepared for you when you get back.”

He didn’t respond, just kept walking. His mouth was dry, heart tight in his chest. Why did doing the right thing feel so awful? Noctis got in his personal car, trying to act as normal as possible. He drove. Once he was near the gate, Noctis turned off his phone and threw it out the window. He blew through the checkpoint and out into the night.

The further he got from the wall, the more daemons he saw dotting the landscape. Most stayed off the roads, empty of all but his car, but he kept the high beams on and drove as fast as he could. He did have to swerve around a couple of Grenades, which kept his adrenaline pumping through the long night.

He kept driving into dawn, until he was jerked alert by the thump of his tires over the bumpy dividers in the middle of the road. Noctis lurched, veering off the highway to slide to a halt. He took several deep breaths, his hands shaking on the wheel. He was ok. Everything was fine. He repeated the words in his head over and over until his heart rate slowed and he could breathe again. He sagged against the wheel. He needed to keep going, but now that the panic had passed, his eyes kept drifting closed.

He wanted to curl up into a ball in the back seat, but he’d gotten rid of his phone, so he couldn’t set an alarm, and it would be too easy to find him if he was just parked on the side of the road, so he rolled down the window and blasted the air conditioner, edging back onto the highway.

An hour later, while he was shivering in his seat, he added the blaring radio to the mix. He stopped at the Longwythe Rest Area to take a piss and stretch his legs, but found he didn’t have the correct currency to buy any snacks. As he wearily continued on his way, he prayed to the Six that there would be a quick way to scrounge up some gil to buy a boat ticket in Galdin Quay.

He made it to Galdin Quay just as the sun was setting. The resort on the water glowed in the twilight, and if he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have taken the time to appreciate the beauty of it. Instead he trudged along the bridge that connected the resort to the shore.

“Traveling alone? How surprising.”

Noctis started. He was passing an auburn-haired man who was smiling at him. And it would have been a pleasant expression, if not for the black ichor running from his eyes and the corners of his smile. Despite all that, he looked vaguely familiar. Noctis squinted, trying to wrack his brain for whether or not he should be running. “Who are you?”

“A man of no consequence,” he bowed slightly.

“Oh… kay…” Noctis took a step away from him.

“I’m afraid you’re out of luck.” The oozing man gestured in the direction he was headed.

“Am I?”

“The boats bring you here.” Noctis’ eyes narrowed. It could just be a guess, it’s not like it was a hard one to make. “Well, they’ll not take you forth.”

Noctis jerked back a step. “Why not?”

The man shrugged, “It appears the Empire has halted all travel to Altissia for the time being.”

“What? Why?” Noctis stammered, his throat clogging up. What was he going to do now?

“Do not despair, My Boy,” The man grabbed his hand, pressing a coin into his palm. Shame. Disgust. Hands touching him, digging into his skin, wrapping around his length, forcing pleasure on him.

Noctis moaned, stumbling. Ardyn (his name was _Ardyn_ ) jerked him forward. He fell against him before he could regain his balance. He was breathing hard, his sudden erection, pressing against Ardyn’s thigh.

“Now that’s unexpected.” The man chuckled.

Noctis jerked backwards, out of his grasp, face burning. He pulled his jacket closed and hurried down the walkway, blowing past the greeters to stumble into a bathroom. He locked himself in the last stall, bracing himself against the door. He struggled to breathe, listening for footsteps. He whimpered, pressing his forehead against the stall door, unzipping his pants to give himself some room. He shoved the coin in his pocket, knowing he’d need it later, hands shaking.

He spent several minutes just focusing on breathing, until he was convinced Ardyn hadn’t followed him into the bathroom. Even then, he wasn’t interested in leaving. What could he possibly do now? What if Ardyn was just outside the bathroom door, waiting for him? How did he keep _that_ from happening?

Noctis reminded himself to breathe again, rubbing his eyes that were burning from exhaustion. Sleep. He needed to sleep. In the morning he’d call his father, tell him about the boats, and accept his punishment. He deserved it.

Reluctantly Noctis left the safety of the bathroom, tense even when he didn’t spot Ardyn waiting to pounce on him. In the darkness he headed out to the cheap trailer he’d seen in the parking lot. Luckily no one was using it, most people interested in staying at the luxury hotel. He curled into a ball on the narrow bunkbed, but despite the exhaustion, his mind kept drifting to Ardyn. Despair. Noctis buried himself under the thin blanket to try to drown out the thoughts. Eventually sleep dragged him into the dark.

**

He woke up starving. Noctis groaned, groggily putting his coat and boots back on, his head throbbing from an already forgotten nightmare. He stumbled to the minimart at the start of the boardwalk. He was scooping up a pile of beef jerky and chips when his eyes landed on the newspaper. His brain couldn’t process the words at first, and then he was sitting on the ground, chips strewn around him.

“Mister, are you alright?”

_Insomnia falls_.

Oh god. It was his fault. It was all his fault. They must have thought he’d run away. Of course, who wouldn’t think that? And that meant the treaty was null and void. Noctis shrunk away from the clerk’s offered hand, climbing to his feet. He darted for the payphone at the side of the building. He tried calling his father. He tried Ignis and Gladiolus. No one answered. He cursed at himself for not having Cor’s number memorized. It was in his phone.

Noctis got in his car and drove.

Tears blurred his vision until he was hollow. He turned on the radio, finding a news station. He listened in horror all day. His stomach cramping, throat scratchy. He passed into the domain where nothing seemed real. He kept driving. It was late by the time he reached the Imperial blockade leading into Insomnia. But he needed to see it with his own eyes.

He pulled off the road to a side path where he hoped he could at least get a view of the city. He almost walked straight into a group of Imperial soldiers, managing to duck behind some crates at the last second. He flung his blade to a perch high above the soldiers, knowing he couldn’t take them head-on by himself. He’d made it halfway to the bluff when a sniper blocked the way forward. He warp-struck the enemy, catching it unawares, but the momentum knocked them both off the narrow perch. Noctis flung his blade into the opposite wall when he heard the first crack of gunfire from below. He yanked his blade out of the cliff face, warping further in in long, draining jumps, until he tumbled out into the pouring rain, rolling out on the green grass. Noctis struggled to his feet, swaying as he staggered to the cliff edge, eyes wide.

His home was gone.

Noctis fell to his hands and knees, sobbing. This was his fault. All his fault. The Empire had taken everything away because of his stupid, stupid plan.

Pain erupted up Noctis’ spine, as something dug into his back, leeching the heat from his body. He was yanked backwards into standing by the cable attached to the hook. He spun, hacking at it. Another cable shot out of the MT, embedding in his chest. It felt like he was being poured out onto the ground, his body jerking. He managed to saw through the cables, phasing through another one aimed at his leg. He felt dizzy and stumbled after warping behind the growing group of MTs charging for the bluff.

Noctis scrambled through the mud, throwing his blade and blinking after it. He almost passed out, slamming into a ruined wall. But he was almost to the car, he just needed to keep going. He warped again, this time pitching forward into the mud, jarring the hooks still embedded in his skin. Noctis clawed his way to standing, slipping and stumbling the rest of the way to the car.

He didn’t know where he was going, he just knew he needed to get away. He peeled out onto the road and floored it. He could feel blood oozing down his back and his chest from the hooks, and he needed to get them out. He couldn’t tell if he was shaking from cold or adrenaline. Probably both. He drove, hunched over to try to keep the hook in his back from brushing the backrest.

What was he doing? Was there any reason to keep going?

Revenge?

How could he take revenge against the Empire when he was all alone?

Seeing no one in his rear view mirror, Noctis pulled to the side of the road. He fumbled around in the glove compartment, coming back with only a handful of fast food napkins for first aid. Noctis looked down at the hook in his chest. It was barbed and had punched a jagged hole in his shirt. He grimaced, taking several steading deep breaths before he dragged it out of his skin. He cried out, head falling against the steering wheel as he forced himself to keep breathing. He pressed half the napkins against the wound; they were soaked within seconds.

When his vision cleared, he struggled to get at the hook in his back, his fingers just lightly brushing it. He swore, reaching for the cable still dangling from it. He grit his teeth, and then yanked, screaming as it came loose. His eyes watered, as he struggled to gulp down air.

Then the car glowed with a purplish light. Noctis looked up to see a giant climbing out of the ground, massive glaive in hand. Noctis threw the car in reverse, but before the squealing tires could gain traction, the daemon was swinging its weapon in a wide arch. It broadsided the car, knocking it into the air.

The next thing Noctis knew, he was lying on the ceiling of the car, the smell of copper and smoke thick in the air. He groaned, trying to move. Glass crunched beneath him. His limbs weren’t working properly, his vision blurry and tinted red. He coughed, sending jarring pain along his body. He tried to crawl to the door, to call for help, but he was alone. The Iron Giant’s glaive crushed the car.

 

Noctis felt the chill of death, the absence of warmth in his prison. His eyes closed on never-ending night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY PROMPTO


	9. Year Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis didn’t make it to the Crystal in Year 6, thus he is doomed to repeat his mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The formatting in this one gets pretty wacky (the use of italics in particular is very deliberate). If it's too confusing, I would def like to know so I can make it better.

"Now enter into Reflection, that the Light of Providence shine within.”

He had done this before. Would he do it again? Mistakes flooded his memory. Pain. Love. So much loss. Lifetimes of regret packed into too few years. Prompto was his. Prompto was dead. He saw overlap in the memories he had forgotten until that moment. Revenge dethroned him in that distant memory, he had not been fit to bring dawn's light. The Accursed's blood, no, Ardyn's blood, was on his hands.

"The Light waxes full. Go forth to the kingdom where the Usurper awaits. Reclaim the throne and fulfill the calling of the True King."

 

Noctis opened his eyes to the cold and the dark. Umbra barked, jarring his heart in his chest. Memories bled together. How many years had it been _this_ time? Would the wheel stop turning? Would it break? 

Noctis stood from the cot in the stone prison, his limbs aching. He went to Umbra to retrieve the note. Luna’s dog was not dead because he had never remembered, he’d not known to try and save Insomnia. And it was too late to save it now.

Noctis took the boat. As he surveyed the ruined husk of Galdin Quay in the distance, he remembered a thought that didn’t belong to him: _Maybe if he’d had the Mark of Leviathan he could have convinced her to help him get across to Galdin Quay. He hadn’t given himself enough time._

He killed the boat engine halfway to the shore, feeling the ever-changing waves rock the vessel. Noctis dipped his hand into the icy, midnight water. “Leviathan,” he said reverently, “lend me your power.”

A sound like thunder under the waves vibrated the boat, and then Noctis was weightless in the air as the boat splintered, a speck against Leviathan’s massive body. He warped, wedging his sword into the scales beneath her giant, glaring eye. The Hydraean’s outrage boomed, ringing in his ears. “What can a lowly king ask of a Goddess, but permission to worship her?”

Noctis braced his feet against her scales. “Passage through _your_ waters, mighty Goddess.”

Leviathan threw her head back, roaring. His freezing fingers went numb at the shockwave from the sound, and he almost lost his grip. “Where I go, Ruin and Rebirth follow!”

“That’s why I’m counting on the Tide,” Noctis responded.

She let out a higher pitched roar, beating her fins. “Where does your Goddess go, O Chosen King?”

“To Insomnia.”

The Hydraean howled. Then Leviathan dove into the ocean, nearly ripping Noctis loose with the strength of her undertow. She skimmed below the waves, only surfacing when he was becoming dizzy from lack of oxygen. Then she shot into the air in an elegant arch he wasn’t able to fully appreciate because he was trying not to fall, and then she dove again.

Noctis felt weightless, like he was floating in a serene pool, and then he was falling to the streets of Insomnia in a torrential downpour. He warped to the ground, rolling with the impact. The waterfall landed around him, a phantom of Leviathan’s laugh, washing away the daemons at the intersection outside the Citadel. He stood, shivering, water dripping in his eyes. Noctis pushed the hair plastered to his face out of his way, surprised to feel the beginnings of a beard along his jawline. How old was he?

“You certainly do know how to make an entrance,” Ardyn called from the steps of the Citadel. “But where are your trusted companions?” He asked, words dripping with smugness. “Well, the ones who remain, anyway.”

Noctis couldn’t stop his heart seizing from a flood of anger and shame that was and wasn’t his. “I came-” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, Ardyn’s fake smiling widening. “I came to talk.”

Ardyn raised an eyebrow. “Talk? But you are the Chosen of the Crystal,” he gestured grandly, “You’re supposed to vanquish me and ascend the throne as the one, True King.”

“I came here to talk.”

Ardyn descended a single step. “What do _we_ have to talk about?”

Noctis scanned the area; it appeared he was early, as Ifrit wasn’t there yet. “The Starscourge.”

The Usurper smirked. “What, did Bahamut not fill you in on the details?”

Noctis forced himself to walk to the bottom step. “Not what it is, but what it did to you.”

A shadow passed over Ardyn’s features, replaced with a smile too quickly to name. “Oh, yes, that pesky immortality. Are you interested? You _are_ their sacrificial lamb.”

Noctis looked up at Ardyn, squaring his shoulders. His mouth was dry and yet he felt like he was drowning. Water dripped off his chin. “No, I meant what it did to your mind.” He took a deep breath, “How revenge against people just as defenseless as the people you saved, became more important than… well, everything.”

The shadow came back, and stayed. Ardyn descended the stairs one methodical step at a time, punctuating his words, “Nothing has happened to my mind,” he hissed. Noctis couldn’t resist the urge to take a step back. “Those supposedly defenseless people turned against _me_ because of some would-be king.”

“That happened a long time ago," Noctis wrestled with the Usurper's name, forcing it past his lips, "Ardyn… Lucis… Caelum… you couldn’t possibly have held a grudge on your own for that long.”

Ardyn snarled, the black ichor starting to leak from his eyes. “I couldn’t possibly?” His voice was distorting, like the sound of approaching daemons, “What do _you_ know of possibilities, Toy King?” The discarded Chosen grabbed the front of Noctis’ soaking wet shirt, pulling him in close.

Noctis flinched, but forced himself to look Ardyn in the eye. “How long have you waited for me?”

His grip on him tightened. “Seven years.”

Noctis' brow furrowed. What had Ardyn done while he had been reliving lifetimes in Reflection? Was Reflection so different from being immortal? “I’ve learned a lot about possibilities in that time.” The rage didn’t abate, but Ardyn tilted his head inquisitively. “I’ve done this before,” Noctis smiled a little. “One time, I was crushed under the weight of the memories alone. I started to think the Starscourge might be like that, just so focused on hate that it drowns everything else out.” Ardyn let him go, laughing, but he was bleeding more of the impenetrable blackness. “It makes your hate for me, and this world, make more… sense?”

The old healer snarled. "Hate? You are not deserving of hate, Glass Prince! You are a tool of the Astrals, nothing more."

Noctis sighed. "Fine. I am, but am I wrong?"

Ardyn scowled, his eyes burning. "See for yourself." He grabbed the sides of Noctis' face as he was opening his mouth to respond, smashing their lips together. Shock froze him a moment too long and something cold and tart, like licking coins, poured into his mouth. The gelatinous substance forced his mouth to stay open while it slid down his throat.

Noctis tried to pull away, but Ardyn held him fast with an unnatural grip. He choked. His fingers twisted in Ardyn's shirt as he frantically tried to breathe, but only managed to inhale more of the coppery tasting substance. His eyes fluttered closed. His legs buckled, hands falling limp at his sides. Even in darkness, he felt dizzy. And then he hit the ground.

"A secret, Noct," he heard whispered near his ear, "It's not hate, it’s _jealousy_."

Noctis struggled to open his eyes. The world was faded and blurry. He started to gulp down air, but it ignited a violent coughing fit that had him contorting on the ground. He wretched, but nothing came up, his stomach full of leaden ice, his mouth bitter. He started coughing again, eyes watering as he writhed helplessly on the ground.

As the hacking subsided, he scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. It was smeared black. Noctis gagged, setting off another coughing fit. His body trembled, cold inside and out.

Eventually that too passed, and he sucked in air, lying limp on the pavement. Ardyn was gone.

Noctis staggered to standing, swayed, and collapsed against the stairs. And then he realized his arm was burning. He screamed, singeing his fingers as he pulled off the ring of the Lucii. It rolled harmlessly on the stair. Noctis whimpered, curling in on himself, cradling his burnt arm against his body. His skin was covered in ash, or had turned to ash, he wasn't sure which through the intense pain. The world darkened, and then dissolved.

**

When Noctis opened his eyes again, the stairs were dry, but the ring was still there. He reached for it, but then stopped. His right arm was blackened, with glowing crags of purple hues. He stared at it. He sat up, moving his fingers. It was his hand. But not. "Shit."

Noctis shook his head, then grabbed the ring with his left hand and shoved it in his coat pocket.

He leveraged the stairs to stand, then rode out a wave of dizziness. He went up a few steps, then froze. If he couldn't use the Ring of the Lucii anymore, what could he actually do on the throne? And he needed to find Ardyn. And do... what? Kill him? Noctis sat down heavily, staring at his mutilated right arm. Was he turning into a daemon?

There was no coming back from that.

He had failed.

No. There _had_ to be something he could do. But what? Noctis straightened. Ignis would know what to do. He stood, walking back down the steps.

He stilled again. What if there was no solution and he'd just doomed the world? How could he face Ignis and Gladiolus then?

_Judgmental fucks._

Of course they would hate him for failing when everything was at stake, when they'd supported him all this time, for this one incredibly important job. And he'd failed.

What if it was still possible to use the ring? If he left now, without trying, wouldn't that be even worse?

_You already have to give up your life, who cares if you destroy your body first?_

Noctis walked back up the stairs and into the lobby of the Citadel. He had to try. Didn't he? He sucked in a deep breath. He remembered this; the eerily empty building, soft light making it look like everything was glowing. The ding of the elevator. Prompto's blood on his hands. Noctis shook his head, trying to dislodge the patchwork memories. He rode the elevator up, slowly walking towards the throne room.

_Why do_ I _have to do this?_

Noctis climbed the stairs to the throne. He reached a hand out, then stopped, letting the tainted hand fall to his side. He ran the fingers of his left hand along the armrest. He was not fit to sit the throne.

_But no one else could be bothered._

Noctis let out a shuddering breath, ignoring the memory of blood smearing the throne, and sat down. He pulled out the ring, a crescendo of voices blaring in his head. He tentatively transferred the ring to his right hand. The screaming intensified, shooting electric agony up his arm. He dropped the ring, his fingers glowing hot. The delicate, _terrible,_ ring plinked down the stairs, each contact ringing out over his grunts of pain. It rolled to the base of the dais, nestled amongst the rubble littering the once-grand room. Tears blurred his vision. He'd really fucked up this time.

_Nothing new there._

Noctis put his head in his hands, then jumped, pulling his right arm away from his face. Nothing felt different; it was just cool to the touch. Like Prompto's fingers when he's nervous.

Not anymore.

_Thanks to Ardyn._

Because Noctis had made him a target.

Because he'd killed him with his own hands.

_Thanks to Ardyn._

Noctis cried, arms sliding between his legs as he folded, forehead almost pressed against his knees.

_He had been abandoned by all the people he cared about, Prompto, Luna, his father, his mother..._

They all died because of him, for him.

_Because of Ardyn._

Noctis screamed in frustration.

_Why him?_

He rocked, tears spilling down his face. What could he do now? He had failed. Everyone was going to die _again_ because of him. But he had to tell Gladiolus and Ignis, if they were still waiting for him in Hammerhead. Noctis bit his lip, struggling to calm down. He had to tell them.

_Because they'd just been waiting for him to handle everything._

Because he was the last of the line of Lucis, no one else could do it.

_That's the Crystal's fault._

_Why couldn't his father have had another son, one that could help carry the burden? Why was everything placed on him?_

Noctis was still crying as he went to retrieve the ring, picking it up in his gloved hand to quickly slip back in his pocket. He shuffled out of the throne room, out of the Citadel, and into the never-ending night. Noctis summoned his blade, preparing to fight, but the daemons parted for him as if he were _their_ king. He shuddered, but kept going, trudging down the daemon-infested streets of Insomnia.

_His Insomnia_

His father's Insomnia.

He walked down the long bridge out of the Crown City, past the abandoned blockade, and down the dark road. He passed the hulking shadow of a familiar billboard, hazily recalling the voices of his retainers and his boyfriend.

 

'I've already pushed myself... to the brink of Death.' Prompto was lying on the road behind the broke-down Regalia, dramatically hopeless.

Gladiolus kicked them both, 'Oh get up. Come on, the car isn't going to move itself.'

_You lazy bastards._

Prompto whined as he slowly got to his feet. 'I thought the car was supposed to move us.'

'Can it!' Gladiolus barked, 'Ready... Steady... Push!'

'Why is this thing so frickin heavy?'

_Why can't one thing go my way?_

'Not exactly a fairytale beginning, huh Prince Noctis?' Gladiolus snorted.

Ignis' tone was wry, 'We let ourselves get carried away.'

_This is all Prompto's fault._

 

Noctis shook his head, squinting. Had Ignis really said that? He was usually more diplomatic than that. Must have been the heat making him cranky. Noctis ran a hand through his matted hair, and then jerked it away from his face. He kept walking. Disjointed memories floated to the surface, like pond scum. Had Ignis and Gladiolus always been so resentful of him?

_His only crime was being born a Lucis Caelum._

And completely failing everyone.

_Because of unfair expectations._

Something was churning in his gut, making him feel nauseous. He was so cold. Noctis stumbled, but kept walking, hugging himself.

He couldn't tell how much time passed in the unrelenting darkness, only the increasing ache in his legs and the rising taste of bile in the back of his throat, signs that anything at all was changing. Until he saw a glow in the expansive darkness; the sign for the Hammerhead rest area. His footsteps slowed, his plan unraveling. What was he going to tell them?

_They wouldn't understand if he told them the truth._

But they would help him, because they were his friends.

_Servants._

Because they were good people.

The lights brightened almost uncomfortably as he reluctantly continued forward.

_He needed a plan._

Some way to explain what happened.

_They would blame him if he didn’t come up with something good._

Noctis whimpered as the churning in his gut surged upwards.

"There's someone out there!"

His legs gave out and he fell to all-fours. His throat constricted, and then he was puking, his body jerking. Red splattered the pavement.

"They look hurt!"

No no no, don't come near me!

The light went out.

**

Noctis woke up coughing. Hard. He surged upright, trying not to choke. Movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to jump. Ignis, in mirrored shades, was rising from a folding chair, a steadying hand on the cot Noctis had been lying in.

"Your Majesty? Are you alright?" The chamberlain reached out his hand, fingers grazing Noctis' right arm. "You're still so-"

"Don't touch me!" Noctis shouted, worried his arm would infect him.

The scar tissue on Ignis' face crinkled. "Noct, you had been coughing up blood when we found you. Let me examine-"

"No!" Noctis slid to the other side of the cot, "My arm, I know you can't see it, but-"

"What the hell is going on in here?" Gladiolus barged through the door of Takka's restaurant. There were piles of boxes stacked everywhere but in the corner they were occupying. "Noct! You're awake."

"Why did you let me in here?" He asked, more angrily than he’d intended. He gestured towards his arm.

"Why wouldn't we?" Gladiolus started, bewildered.

"He said something about his arm," Ignis interjected.

Gladiolus squinted. "What about his-"

"Is there something wrong with it?" Ignis gestured vaguely.

"It looks fine to me?" Gladiolus shrugged.

"Perhaps it's infected? He won't let me touch-"

"Shut up!" Noctis screamed, clamping his hands over his ears. _They were too loud, always nagging him, never letting him sleep in or give him a moment's rest._ Silence. They were both staring at him.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" Gladiolus snapped. "You're gone for seven years, and then suddenly you're back and screaming at Ignis like a spoiled-"

"Gladio, enough." Ignis interrupted calmly. Noctis hunched, hugging himself, terrified he'd said anything at all. "Noct, what's wrong?" He was a kid again. Crying in his room, Ignis perched on the edge of the bed right beside him. Always.

_They always treated him like a little kid. Spoiled brat._

Only because he acted like one. The muscle under his right eye was twitching repetitively. "I did something..." He trailed off, pursing his lips.

_He needed a plan._

"What did you do, Noct?" Ignis prodded gently.

_They wouldn't understand the truth. They would just blame him._

"I..."

_It wasn't his fault._

"Noct?"

"Spit it out!"

"Ardyn took the ring!" _Oh god, what was he saying?!_ "He found me on my way up here-" _no no no no no_ "-and he attacked me."

"What?" Gladiolus sounded horrified.

"Without _you_ there," Noctis continued, unable to keep the bite out of his voice. _Why was he lying? Why was he blaming them, it was all his fault!_ "I was unable to stop him. Without the ring, I can't defeat Ardyn."

"Then we'll just have to get it back." Gladiolus pounded his fist into his palm.

"Right," Noctis smiled, but it felt forced.

Yes, this was good. This was better. It would give them hope where there was none.

_It's a lie._

"But first you must rest, Noct," Ignis said firmly. Noctis ducked his head.

_Don't do this to them._

But now they won't go away.

Noctis shifted bashfully. "I'll be ok..."

"Come on, Noct," Gladiolus huffed fondly, "We need you at 100%."

See, he just needs to feel useful. The simpleton.

_Stop talking, you're just making everything worse. What happens when they find out you've been lying?_

Who's going to tell them? Ardyn? Who would believe him?

Noctis sighed. "Alright, fine. Wake me up in a few hours, ok?"

"You got it. Come on Iggy, let's leave the King to his beauty sleep."

Self-serving fucker thinks he's so funny.

_He's just teasing because he's worried._

He just wants to feel important.

Noctis watched them leave the restaurant. It was a pretty good plan for being so last minute. They could waste years trying to get the ring 'back' from Ardyn. They'd most likely die before finding out the truth. They'd die thinking they were the ones that failed.

_No, I can't do that to them. I need to tell them the truth._

Noctis sighed, threading his fingers together. He stretched lazily.

>> _Noct! Hey Noct!_

Noctis blinked, gaze turning to the counter. Carbuncle was perched there, wagging its long, platinum tail.

>> _Hey Noct! Come on!_

He raised his eyebrows, sliding off the cot. "Where are we going?"

_> >To see Prompto and Luna!_

"But they're... how?"

Kill them all.

_Die_

Noctis got out his daggers.

 

He surged out of sleep in the never-ending night, then it dragged him back down into the depths of possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Noctis is suspiciously eloquent. Ignis is concerned.


	10. Year Eight - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a child, Noctis is not a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry, Persona 5 came out, and now I’m kinda… well, you know distracted. But I want to finish this, so I will def be continuing to plug away at it. I just might break the parts up into smaller chunks to make it easier.

_Dear Ardyn Lucis Caelum,_

_This is my third letter to you, and I hope it finds you well. I hope it finds you at all, as I have received no response to my last two letters. However I have no other way to reach you. If I were older I would journey to the Niflheim Empire to see you in person, but I am currently nothing more than a strange, nine-year-old boy to most people’s perceptions. And am not allowed to drive._

_I want you to know I understand. In a past life I was infected with the Starscourge as well, and now understand the impact it has on the mind. I implore you to seek out Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. While she cannot cure you, she can relieve your suffering while we both wait for me to get older and fulfil the prophecy. Then you will know true peace from the poison of jealousy you have had to endure for far too long. To ask you to wait even just a little longer, I understand is a heavy burden, and more than I have the right to ask, but I pledge my service as the future king to relieve your suffering forevermore._

_You do not need to guide me in this matter. You have already done enough, though you may not be aware of it yet. I assure you, I am willing, and once I am physically able to bear the Ring of the Lucii, I can help you. Please try not to harm anyone on our behalf, it will not change our goals, nor their outcome, but it will cause undo suffering to people who are not those that shunned you in the past because of Izunia’s jealousy. I know it’s a lot to ask, but perhaps you could step down as the Chancellor and find some solace in Tenebrae with Luna. As a healer, and the true Oracle, there is much you could teach her. I know she would be eager to learn._

_Ardyn, I know you cannot focus right now, so let me focus for you. Go to Lady Lunafreya and I will be with you both as soon as I am able._

_You are in my thoughts,_

_Noctis Lucis Caelum_

Noctis set down his pen, exhaling. Trying to channel Ignis’ formal etiquette lessons was exhausting. A knock at the door made him jump. “Yes?”

“What are you doing, Your Highness?” Ignis asked as he entered the room.

Noctis smiled at him, closing the red notebook on his desk, concealing the extra paper tucked in its pages. “Writing a letter to Luna.”

Ignis looked mutedly pleased. “Then I’m sorry to disturb you, Your Highness, but dinner is ready and His Majesty will be joining you this evening.”

Noctis slid off his chair with a slight grimace; the scars on his back still pulling somewhat painfully. “That’s fine, I was just finishing it. Can we stop by the garden so I can give this to Umbra?”

Ignis smiled, “Of course, Noct.”

Noctis tucked the book under his arm, smiling back at the retainer as they walked out. He knew his limp would mostly go away in another year of training with Gladiolus, but it was still so frustrating that he had to move so slowly when he had so much to do. Noctis tried not to keep checking the red journal to make sure the additional pages hadn’t slipped out. Not that it would be too weird for him to fuss with the book; he had guarded it almost jealously in his previous lives.

At first he hadn’t wanted to get Luna involved as his messenger, but she had suggested it when he’d told her about his previous incarnations. He had known about them for as long as he could remember, but they had just seemed like fantasies until the daemon attack.

When he tried to warn his father about the attack in Tenebrae, he had seemed like a child addled after a traumatic experience, so he’d confided in Luna, hoping her words would have more weight.          As the future Oracle, they had. That’s when he’d learned his memories were not a rigid future, but more like potentials. Two little kids couldn’t stop the Empire from invading Tenebrae, but they could save the lives of the Nox Fleuret family. The people still had a lot of love for the Oracle, and by surrendering Tenebrae voluntarily, they’d made a violent coup too public an endeavor. It had also given his father and him a chance to leave before the assassination attempt could be made. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but the best one they had with their limited resources.

“Noct?” Ignis prodded.

Noctis chided himself for getting so lost in thought. He should have asked Ignis how his day was going or something. “Ah, sorry, did you say something?”

Ignis smiled, the concern smoothing out. “You will have some free time after diner; I was just asking what you would like to do.”

Noctis tilted his head, considering his options. “Warping practice? I’m still pretty bad at it.”

Ignis chuckled. “While I’m sure Gladio would appreciate your enthusiasm, warping on a full stomach is… ill-advised.”

His nose crinkled. “Oh… right.” Noctis shrugged. “I would like to learn how to be a better negotiator? I’m bad at that too.”

Ignis adjusted his glasses. “I was thinking more along the lines of going to a park or… something.”

Noctis stifled a sigh. Sometimes it was so frustrating being a child.

But wouldn’t it have been fun to be playmates with Prompto when he was a kid? To catch fireflies with him. The idea made his heart ache. They had both been so lonely as kids. But he didn’t want to stunt Prompto’s growth by reaching out to him first.

“Noct?”

Noctis blinked. “Oh… um…” He blushed. It was a bad idea, he had so many things to take care of-

“Noct,” Ignis said, his tone soothing, “It’s ok for the Prince to play every once in awhile.”

Noctis hugged the notebook to his chest. “Um…” he tried, his voice as small and weak as his body, “I’d… like to meet a classmate from when I go to school.”

Ignis looked startled, and froze for a moment, so Noctis stopped as well, staring at his shoes. “Noct? I mean, did you have someone in mind?”

Noctis bit his lip. “Prompto Argentum. I mean, if he doesn’t want to, that’s fine, just, if he doesn’t mind, I wouldn’t… mind…”

“I understand.” Ignis nodded. “Tonight won’t be possible, of course, but I’ll arrange something with his parents.”

“You have to ask _him_ first. I don’t want him to feel pressured because of who I am.”

“Of course, Noct, I’d be honored to extend your invitation to him.”

Noctis ducked his head. “Thanks.”

“For tonight, shall we work on your negotiating skills, then?”

“Thanks.”

Umbra’s bark heralded their arrival to the palace gardens. He greeted the magical dog with a scratch behind his ears and then slipped the notebook in his knapsack, securing it tightly. “Thank you, Umbra.” The dog barked, then bounded away to deliver his messages. Noctis and Ignis continued on to the dining hall.

“I’ll see you after dinner, Noct,” Ignis said fondly, and then passed him over to Gladiolus, who was already waiting in the dining hall.

Gladiolus appreciated it when he was less formal. “Hey Gladio.”

His shield smiled at him, “Hey Noct,” then went back to attention.

His father wasn’t there yet. Noctis grabbed his chair and started dragging it to the side of the awkwardly long table. Gladiolus surged forward before the chair tipped on his clumsy body, righting it. “Noct, what are you doing?”

“Table’s too big.”

Gladiolus snorted. “Where do you want it, Kid?”

Noctis pointed to a spot close to his father’s chair. He grabbed his plate and silverware to place in the new location. “Thanks Gladio.”

“No prob.” Gladiolus waved as he went back to his post. Noctis climbed onto the repositioned chair and waited.

His heart sunk a little further with each tick of the minute hand, until a steward came in to let him know his father couldn’t make it. Noctis sighed, forcing a smile. He had vowed to try and appreciate the moments he got to spend with his father more in this life, but it put into sharp relief all the times where he couldn’t. He thought about asking Gladiolus if he wanted to eat with him, but he was just a weird kid, and the shield was on duty and would probably have dinner with Iris a little later.

“You… want me to put your chair back?” Gladiolus asked in the awkward silence.

“No, that’s ok,” Noctis forced another smile, “Dinner’ll taste the same no matter where I sit.” It looked like Gladiolus was about to say something, but thought better of it.

Noctis ate dinner in a silence interrupted only by the soft clink of his silverware. He tried the carrots, but they were still gross.

When dinner was over, Gladiolus maintained the silence while escorting him back to his room.

Ignis was waiting for him. “Are you ready for your lesson, Noct?”

Noctis sighed. He hated to admit it, but his father’s absence took the wind out of his sails quite a bit, and now he mostly just wanted to sleep. “Maybe some other time? I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

Ignis smiled at him gently, “Not better, Noct, but there is no harm in calling it a day.” Noctis nodded absently. “I’ll see you in the morning then, Your Highness.” The chamberlain got up to leave.

Noctis slipped his hands in his pockets. “Hey Ignis?”

“Yes Noct?”

“Forget about that stuff with Prompto, ok? I’ll just wait until I start school.”

Ignis frowned, letting out a soft sigh of his own. He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. A moment later he smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, it’s too late. I’ve already sent out the invitation.”

Noctis blinked at him. “Seriously?”

He nodded solemnly. “Seriously.”

“Oh.” Noctis shifted his weight. “Um…”

“It will be fine, Noct. I made it abundantly clear that declining the invitation would not reflect poorly on him or his parents.” Ignis pushed up his glasses. “So when he accepts, it will be because he chooses to.”

“When?” Noctis raised an eyebrow. “That’s awfully confident, Specs.”

The chamberlain chuckled. “Good night, Noct.”

“Night, jerk.” Noctis smiled. Ignis gave him a small bow, then left the room. His smile faded as he started to consider the possibilities again. Had he screwed up his relationship with Prompto by jumping the gun? How would he compensate for that when journeying to collect the Royal Arms and the covenants with the Astrals?

Would Prompto think he was pushy and resent him?

Noctis restlessly got ready for bed, frequently running his finger along the edge of the Carbuncle charm he still kept tucked in his pocket. His compiling doubts built a tower that cast a deep shadow over him. If this tactic didn’t work, he needed a backup plan, a way to give a future life a better chance of succeeding. He knew he’d gotten lucky this time; frequently the memories were overwhelming, almost more hindrance than help, but he’d also proven that going without the memories was insufficient for success. Why couldn’t he be more like Ignis, who probably would have had everything sorted out the first time?

Noctis sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his forehead with a hand that was too small for this bullshit. Being an adult sucked, and it sucked even more that he had to be one while he was still a kid. Noctis huffed, setting Carbuncle on its own pillow before lying down and turning out the light.

**

Noctis woke in a field of blue, the sky overhead a gray blanket keeping in warm, humid air. He sat up, stretching. A playful barking echoed in the expanse and Noctis stood to find Pryna and Umbra greeting each other, circling and sniffing as if they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. He scanned the horizon for Luna, but she was nowhere to be seen. He rubbed his eyes.

>> _Hey Noct!_

Carbuncle was bounding towards him, a stark silver against all the blue and gray.

“Hey, where are we going today?”

>> _What do you want to do? Go through a memory or play?_

Noctis squat down, scratching behind Carbuncle’s long, fluffy ears. It tilted its head, letting out a high-pitched purr. “If I was going to have someone my age over, what would be a fun thing to do?” Carbuncle’s tail swished.

>> _That depends! What do they like?_

Noctis nodded. “Take pictures of animals. And maybe play video games. I’m not sure if he’s into those yet. And he doesn’t like bugs.”

_> >_ ( _/_ _‿＼✿)_

>>Are you talking about your friend, Prompto?

Noctis blushed. “H-he’s not my friend… yet… I mean… he might not be. I maybe screwed it up by asking to see him sooner than I was supposed to. What am I going to do if-”

>> (ﾉ´･ω･)ﾉ ﾐ ┸━┸

>> _Now you can be best buds even sooner!_

“I don’t know-”

>> _You’re still you, Noct! That’s never changed._

Noctis sighed. “Maybe it should.”

Carbuncle nuzzled his leg, making another vibrating squeak that he could feel tingle along his skin.

>> _You’ll get it._

Noctis sat down in the sylleblossoms and Carbuncle hopped into his lap. “I wish I could have taken you with me.”

_> >I’m always with you!_

Noctis laughed, shaking his head. “No, I mean across timelines; it was easier to process everything when you offered to help me filter through them. And if I need to do this again, I might not know to ask.”

Carbuncle rubbed against him, warm, like Luna’s healing magic.

>> _You’d have to convince Bahamut it’s ok._

Noctis started. “Wait, what? You mean it’s possible?” Carbuncle tilted its head.

>> _Anything is possible!_

**

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Noctis stared, helplessly at Ignis standing behind the awkward blond kid staring at the ground.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Ignis said with unconcealed amusement, and then bowed out of the spare room, shutting the door.

The silence was stifling. Usually it was Prompto’s job to fill it. “So… um…”

Prompto’s gaze jumped to him sharply, then went back to the floor when they accidentally made eye contact. “Y-Y-Yes, P-Prince Noctis?”

Noctis shoved his hands in his pockets. “You… want to play a video game?”

“S-S-Sure.” Prompto agreed with the ground.

“Is Astral Kart 4 ok?”

“S-S-Sure Prince Noctis. I-I haven’t played that. S-S-So I’m probably not very good. I’m sorry.”

Noctis smiled a little. “Same. And call me Noct.”

Prompto finally looked up at him, but he was turning a bit red. “O-ok, Prin… Noct.”

Noctis limped towards the couch. “You want a soda or something? They’re right there.” He pointed to the packed serving cart; Ignis had gotten a little too enthusiastic about Prompto coming over.

Prompto worried the hem of his striped shirt. Noctis tried not to stare at the stark contrast to the Prompto he knew, but the wristband was still there, which was how he’d recognized his Prompto the first time. Noctis blushed.

Prompto shuffled. “No… thank… you…”

Noctis shrugged. “Are you sure? I got them for you. They don’t normally let me have soda.”

“F-for m-m-me?” Noctis nodded, grabbing one and sliding onto the couch. “Why don’t they let you have soda?”

“All the sugar and caffeine,” Noctis said in a faux-Ignis tone, “is unhealthy for a growing boy.” He stuck his tongue out disapprovingly. Prompto giggled, then abruptly stopped, hunching defensively. “So you want a soda?”

“S-sure.” Prompto shuffled over to the couch and Noctis passed him one. He clumsily landed on the plush piece of furnature and Noctis waited while he straightened out his clothes before passing him a game controller.

“Have you played any of the other Astral Karts?” Prompto shook his head. “Yeah, me neither. They don’t let me play video games usually.”

“B-b-because they’re unhealthy for a growing boy?”

Noctis laughed, and Prompto turned bright red, but graced him with a triumphant smile. “Rot my brain, apparently.”

Prompto gave him a sidelong glance. “Let’s rot your brain then.”

Noctis grinned. “I’m all for that.” He pressed Start.

The game beat them soundly the first few tracks they played, but very soon they were mostly competing against each other. In silence at first, with the occasional triumphant giggle, but while Noctis mostly just held his controller, draped over the armrest, Prompto was getting into it, moving the controller like it was motion control technology that wouldn’t be introduced to the gaming market for another few years; tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. It was cute.

“You wanna play together?”

Noctis blinked at the sudden question, hand pausing on the controller. “Huh?”

“I think there’s a co-op mode. We can be a team, if you want.” Prompto ducked his head, looking away.

“What? I didn’t know that was a thing! Let’s do that!”

They killed it together; discussing strategy, shit-talking the computer, and Noctis had no doubt that the Prompto he had known hadn’t all been an act, just this kid buried under a mountain of shyness. Prompto had never told him what had spurred him to work up the nerve to talk to a person trying really hard to keep everyone at a safe distance. And through all the lifetimes, he couldn’t find a way to not need him around, and it was getting increasingly terrifying.

They bumped fists at their latest victory, Prompto’s face bright. Then he cleared his throat, staring pointedly at the screen. “Hey Noct… um… why did you invite me over? I mean, I’ve never met you before… right? S-S-S-so… not that I’m bummed about it, I just… it’s…” He was hunching over, gripping the controller a little too tight. The ease he’d been showing a moment before evaporated.

“Weird?” Noctis finished. Prompto nodded. Noctis scratched the back of his head. He had a lie ready to go for when the question inevitably came up, he just… didn’t want to lie to Prompto. “I’m going to sound super crazy, but I’ve had dreams about you and you seemed really… nice. Like someone I could trust.” Noctis held his breath. That was too much. He shouldn’t have said it. He’d probably freaked poor Prompto out and that was the end of that.

The silence settled in and surprisingly Prompto was getting incredibly red in the face. “You… dreamed about me?”

Noctis suddenly felt very hot. “Y-Yeah, but it’s not as creepy as it sounds, I swear.” (It kinda was, all of their relationships considered.)

Prompto smiled at him shyly. “What did we do, in your dream?”

“A-A bunch of stuff,” Noctis stammered, rubbing his suddenly sweaty palms on his shorts. “W-We went on an epic road trip.”

Prompto’s eyes lit up. “Tell me about it! Where did we go?”

“We went all over Lucis, like, a _lot_. And Altissia, then…” Noctis trailed off, staring at his hands, mouth going dry.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Some of it’s sad, huh?” Noctis nodded feeling his chest tighten. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m…” Prompto ducked his head. “I’m glad you asked me over.”

“Same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis LIED! He hadn’t sent the invitation before Noctis asked him not to do it, but he wanted the poor, solemn kid to have someone to play with so bad he was willing to tell a little fib. Bless him.


	11. Year Eight - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis has had memories of the other lifetimes since he was a child, and Carbuncle has helped him sort through them to keep them from becoming overwhelming. But Carbuncle suggests it could be doing more, with Bahamut’s help. In the meantime Noctis has been sending letters to Ardyn, imploring him to halt his machinations and seek solace with Luna until he is old enough to get rid of the Starscourge inside of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part requires a vocabulary test :D   
> Carbuncle: Red gemstone (usually a garnet or ruby), similar in name to the Latin term for a burning coal  
> Asterion: A cut gemstone that has a luminous star-like shape in it  
> Nyuidj: A dead spirit that still exists in The Dreaming, a place containing all of Time  
> Eos: Goddess of the dawn

Noctis took a deep breath, and then walked into the vault with the Crystal, the King protectively close behind him. His father had been very reluctant to entertain Noctis' request to meet the Crystal. He had said he wanted to see the Crystal, since it was part of his future, but that was a lie. He really wanted to talk to Bahamut about Carbuncle. However, the truth required explaining his past lives again, and his father always got weirdly frustrated when he brought up the other timelines. As if he were disappointed they were real. Noctis had already learned not to bring up how they informed his motivations as the prince.

His father had said, exasperated, that the Crystal was not a toy, and almost dismissed the request out-of-hand. Noctis had reminded him that the Crystal had chosen him for a reason. He, however, didn’t mention the fact that he’d surmised it had nothing to do with ability, and everything to do with timing. The Astrals had simply waited too long to deal with Ardyn's plan to bring about never-ending night. Or maybe the plan was to be so big a threat that he had to be laid to rest by Providence. Noctis had doubts Ardyn knew which outcome he wanted.

He reached up a hand, feeling the warmth of the Crystal, like Luna’s healing magic.

“Don’t touch it,” His father warned, placing a hand on his small shoulders as if trying to steady him.

It was comforting as his heart started pounding in his chest. He remembered the repeated panic of being absorbed by the Crystal, and the consequences when he wasn’t ready. Noctis shivered.

“You don’t have to do this right now, My Son. Let us wait until you’re older.”

Noctis took a deep breath, releasing it with all the tension in his body. “I might not have time later.” He slipped his left hand into his pocket, running his finger along the hard curves of the Carbuncle charm.

Ignis said he could sleep anywhere. It was time to test that theory. Noctis sat down cross-legged in front of the large, open-hearted crystal, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth.

His father awkwardly sat down beside him, placing a hand on his back; broad and comforting. Noctis leaned against him, taking slow, relaxing breaths.

 

“The Chosen Prince connects the paths of Time and Mind, guiding the hand of Providence.” Bahamut’s booming voice tingled along his skin. Noctis opened his eyes to the sunrise-like haze around him, floating into the Draconian’s waiting hand. “-The first revelation of Bahamut.”

Noctis tilted his head, frowning. “You were expecting me?”

The Astral’s expression was inscrutable behind the metal mask. “For the first and last covenant, the Chosen has come.”

Noctis blinked, a speck in the monolith’s hand. “A covenant? Carbuncle’s an Astral? Wait, if you knew I was going to ask for your help, why didn’t you mention it in all those other lives?” He was more bewildered than irritated, as if he’d peeked behind a curtain he shouldn’t have, only to find they’d been expecting him.

“Covenants require their trial be endured.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to follow, “And what was the trial?”

“Understanding.”

Noctis huffed, feeling like he was having a conversation with a taciturn wall. “Understand what?”

“The meaning of the Accursed.”

Noctis gaped. He only understood because he’d been infected with the Starscourge before, and _remembered_. Was this cycling through lives part of the Astral’s plan? Or had it simply been yet another task he’d failed at the first time? “Oh.” Noctis tilted his head slightly. “So… I… passed?”

“Our strength is yours, O’ Chosen.” The voice was beautiful and soothing. On Bahamut’s massive shoulder sat a platinum haired person draped in white furs overlapping a shimmering, iridescent dress. Long legs crossed at the knee were sheathed in soft grey leggings. The person had large, pointed ears, and was wearing a white, fox-like mask with a large red ruby as the third eye. Behind their slender, long-limbed body, a white tail swished back and forth hypnotically.

“C-Carbuncle?” Noctis stammered.

It was impossible to tell their expression behind the mask, but the lilting tone sounded amused, “A Messenger, Dear Prince.” The person shifted on Bahamut’s shoulder. “Now let our covenant be forged.”

His skin tingled, and Noctis looked down at his left arm to see, nestled in a space that had seemed empty when he’d had the mark of all the Astrals, a new mark made out of the negative space. He struggled to read the strange language of the Astrals. “The… Dead Spirit?”

“Nyuidj, The Asterion. The Star that shines within.” Bahamut’s introduction echoed in his head.

Noctis let out a panicked breath, “Who?”

The iridescent being floated down from Bahamut’s broad shoulder like a soap bubble, placing a slender finger against his lips. “We don’t have time for questions, O Chosen. Show me your dream.”

“Enter into Reflection,” Bahamut rumbled, “So that the light of Understanding shines within.”

Nyuidj wrapped slender arms around him, the fur of its garment warm and inviting. Bahamut let them go, and they drifted lazily downwards. Memories of lives bubbled to the surface, so intense he was drowning in them. However, every time he started to lose the thread of himself, he would spot Carbuncle out of the corner of his eye, or on the edges of a nightmare, and he would remember he was a strange, nine-year-old boy, and not these other incarnations. They were just reflections.

And while he remained, he was weary by the time he got to Carbuncle beckoning him towards death; an attempt to prevent the tragedy the Starscourge infection would bring. Or maybe had brought, he wasn’t sure. His eyes slipped closed as he surrendered to exhaustion. In his ear, whispering gently, the Asterion beckoned him towards sleep. He dreamed of a field of blue.

“Luna?” Noctis stifled a yawn. She was standing before him, but as her older self.

“You found me here. I’m so happy.”

His heart sank like a stone in still water. He remembered those words. Noctis scrambled to his feet. “Oh no, what happened?” He could already feel tears rising to the surface.

“I’m sorry, Noctis, I couldn’t help Ardyn.”

“Oh… no…” Noctis whimpered, shrinking. “H-he… you’re… and it’s my fault for sending him to you.”

“No Noctis, please don’t think that. I offered.” She took his hands in her own and he realized he was grown as well. “I wanted to ease his suffering, but he was so frustrated, and we didn’t know when you were going to wake up. It was just too much for him.” She sniffled. “He’d even done as you asked, but when I couldn’t lessen his pain, he lashed out.”

“I’m so sorry, Luna.” Tears spilled down his cheeks, but Luna was smiling.

“I’m so grateful for this opportunity to see you again. Is this,” she gestured towards him, “what you look like now?”

 “No, I’m still just a-” He wiped his eyes, his heart rate starting to climb, “Wait, you said you didn’t know when I’d wake up? How long have I been asleep?”

Luna looked at him with pity. “It had been five years when Ardyn came to me. If more time has passed since then, I do not know.”

“Oh no,” Noctis breathed, “I didn’t go _in_ the Crystal, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

She touched his cheek, a crease in her brow, “You’ve worked so hard, Dear Noctis.”

His lip started to tremble, fresh tears dampening his face. “Nothing I do works. I’m so… I’m so _tired_.” Luna pulled him into a hug, running her graceful hand down the back of his head. “Why can’t I save you?”

She sighed, and he felt it in his chest. “Because I don’t need saving, Dear Noctis. I make my own choices, and accept the consequences.”

He sobbed, burying his face against the crook of her neck. “I don’t want you to die.”

“We all die, Noctis,” Luna said softly. “Someday even Ardyn will know rest. I am just happy I had the privilege of helping you. You are… important to me.”

Noctis snorted, sniffling. “Love you too, Luna.”

She chuckled, a sound that vibrated in his heart. “You were a sweet boy, Noctis, and you will make a good King. But first…” He could suddenly feel her warm breath on his ear, “Wake up.”

 

Noctis jolted, his eyes snapping open to an unfamiliar ceiling. He tried to sit up, but his limbs were lead. Something started beeping like it was panicking. Was he paralyzed again? Where was he? He turned his head even though it was a laborious process, revealing what looked like a small private hospital suite.

Someone burst through the door in a nurse's uniform. Their eyes were wide. "Prince Noctis! You're awake!"

"Why can't I move?" Is what he tried to ask, but although his lips moved, only scratchy, incoherent sounds came out.

"Calm down, Your Highness," The nurse said, going to the equipment he finally realized he was hooked up to, "You've been in a coma for seven years, your body is no longer accustomed to physical exertion."

"Seven years?" He exclaimed, but it came out like words through a bad connection.

"I know you probably have a lot of questions, but try not to speak just yet. I'm going to take your blood pressure, then sit you up in the bed. I'll give you a few ice cubes to help sooth your throat. His Majesty is being alerted as we speak."

Noctis nodded sluggishly. He recalled the field of blue and Luna's words. She'd been dead for two years. Things got blurry and the side of his face was becoming damp. He wanted to be strong, like Luna, but how could he be when he kept losing her?

"It'll be ok," The nurse said gently, smoothing his blanket.

She followed through with her instructions, and Noctis was propped up by the bed when his father showed up a half hour later, hobbling into the room.

"Hi," Noctis greeted lamely. His father looked so worn, worse than he remembered.

His father leaned his cane against the bed, taking Noctis' hand in both of his. They were shaking slightly. "Noctis, how are you feeling?" Behind him Ignis closed the door to give them some privacy, a small smile on his face.

Noctis looked down at his weird, still weak, 16-year-old body. If he hadn't already been 16 seven times before, it probably would have been terrifying. The nurse had assured him that after a few months of physical therapy, he would be fine. "I'm sorry."

His father looked genuinely surprised. "For what?"

"For taking so long to form a covenant. For getting Luna killed, so I also screwed up the convents with the other Astrals. For probably provoking Ardyn even further than normal. For making you... making you... w-worry-" Noctis hiccupped.

His father squeezed his hand. "Noctis, slow down. Take a deep breath," Noctis complied, "Good, now start at the beginning. What happened when you fell asleep at the Crystal?"

Noctis took another deep breath. "I spoke with Bahamut. I wanted to make a covenant with Carbuncle." Noctis sighed at his father's concerned frown. "Dad, Carbuncle _is_ real, but it's just a Messenger."

"For... who?"

Noctis could see his father struggling to believe him. His shoulders sagged; he was about to sound even less credible. "The Asterion, Nyuidj."

His father's eyebrows shot up, then his entire body sagged. "That is not an Astral, My Son. You've been dreaming."

Noctis lowered his gaze, something heavy settling on his shoulders. "I know the Chancellor killed Luna, Your Majesty. How could I know that if I've just been dreaming?"

His father dropped his hand, the shock evident in his widening eyes. "How do you...?"

"Luna told me... as she passed away." Noctis steadied his breathing to keep from crying. "And don't you think it's strange I'm not weirded out about the changes in my body? I've been 16 before."

"As you've said," His father responded in a guarded tone. "So what is the Asterion?"

Noctis held up his exposed left arm. He'd always wondered why he'd felt the urge to wear the brace covering it. It had seemed fortuitous when he started his journey and all the marks appeared underneath it. Maybe this was why. Prompto wasn't the only one hiding under his clothing.

His father examined the faded brown mark that looked more like a birthmark than a brand of the Astral's favor. "The Hidden Mind?" His father glanced up at him, then lightly ran his thumb over it. "You didn't have that last week."

Noctis huffed. "See, I thought it said Dead Spirit, but that makes more sense."

"Ah," His father looked thoughtful, academia taking over, "I can see that. From the angle you would be looking at it."

"Oh." Noctis turned his arm awkwardly, but the movement invited a wave of exhaustion, so he let it fall to his lap.

His father took up his hand again, careful, as if he were fragile. Maybe he was. "You look tired. Perhaps you should rest. We can speak further in the morning."

Noctis' shoulders hunched reflexively. "Please, don't go yet," he said in a small voice. "It's just tiring to move."

"Of course, I'll stay as long as you need." His father squeezed his hand. It was warm and comforting. He remembered this too, the first time he woke from a coma. "I'm just so relieved you're awake, My Son. I don't want to rush you."

Noctis lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry to have worried you."

His father smiled, and he didn't look quite as worn and haggard. "It is the duty of a father to worry. I don't regret it for a second."

Noctis sighed. "But I'm so much trouble."

His father chuckled. "Indeed you are, but it's worth it. I'm proud of you, Noctis."

Noctis blinked, looking up at him. He didn't _look_ like he was being sarcastic. "What? Why? I think I actually made things worse."

He received a pat on the hand. "Were you trying to fulfil your destiny as the Chosen of the Crystal?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You are just.." His father took a steading breath "...were a child." His expression turned solemn, capturing Noctis' gaze. "As a Prince, and as a King, you will not always make the correct decision, but as long as you don't shirk your duty, you are making the _right_ decision. And for that, I am exceedingly proud of you."

Strong, incongruous emotions surged to the surface, forcing out tears. His father was proud of him, but only for trying to fulfil his duty. He was happy, but it was trimmed with ugly resentment, that even his father saw him as just a useful tool. His father looked perplexed at the sudden overflow of emotion, but wordlessly handed him a tissue. "Thanks," Noctis said flatly. "I'm sorry, you must be busy. You don't have to stay."

His father settled down on the edge of the bed. "I'll make the time," his tone was warm.

So he'd make the time for the tool of the Crystal, but all those other times, when he was left waiting for a father that would never show, it was because he couldn't make time for his wayward son. Noctis bit his lip, trying to ward against the nasty thoughts that seemed to be coming from nowhere. He'd felt this before.

No, he hadn't. Other versions of him had. Noctis cringed. Was he doomed to be the same person no matter what he tried? Was he born to fail?

"Tell me about Nyuidj," his father asked into Noctis' doubt-riddled silence. "What is the Asterion?"

"I'm... not... sure?" His brow furrowed. "I guess it's like... a records keeper? In case I-" _fail_. His father didn't want to hear that. Would he think less of him for having a contingency plan that didn't even apply to this lifetime? He didn't want to test it and find out.

"So the Asterion provided you with information? Guidance?" His father prompted, brow furrowed as he groped for a good explanation for Noctis' seven-year nap.

"In... formation..." Noctis lied slowly, realizing it would be easier for his father to digest what he'd learned through the various lifetimes if he thought an Astral had told him those things. It was better this way.

His father let out a frustrated sigh. "And what did you learn?"

Noctis lowered his voice, "We shouldn't talk about it here."

His father looked stern, but nodded. Noctis looked at him through the fringe of his now shoulder-length hair. "I... only got that little bit from Luna. What's been going on while I was asleep?"

His father exhaled, body sagging. "Quite a lot, I'm afraid." He briefly rubbed his forehead. "Ardyn Izunia rather publicly stepped down as Chancellor of Niflheim five years ago and went to Tenebrae to assassinate the Nox Fleuret family-"

"What? Her mother and brother too?"

"I'm afraid so, Noctis."

He lowered his head, hair walling the world off in black. Nothing had changed, it had just been delayed and reordered. Were they always fated to die?

A stabilizing hand landed on his shoulder. "Perhaps we should discuss this later, when you've rested."

Noctis shook his head, but he didn't look up. "No please, keep going," he mumbled.

The hand slid from his shoulder. "Ardyn disappeared after that, and the Empire became even more aggressive in their attempt at conquest. Recently they've demanded we surrender the Crystal in exchange for the safety of Lucis."

"Are you going to give it to them?"

"Of course not," Noctis could hear the steel in his father's voice, "The line of Lucis is sworn to protect the Crystal. And it is an empty promise. Without the Wall, I have no doubt the Empire would take everything."

Noctis knotted his fingers together. Had he made things worse? By asking the Chancellor to step down, had he robbed Lucis of several more years of peace? And he couldn't even begin to fathom what Ardyn was up to now that he wasn't using the Empire as his puppet. He hunched down, trying not to freak out in front of his father. "And... Ardyn never resurfaced?"

His father hummed softly. "There were rumors he was in Altissia, but nothing concrete. However, the fact that Altissia can remain neutral in this war speaks to that quite a bit." Noctis nodded numbly. Then Altissia was where he needed to go. His father glanced down, then pulled his phone from his pocket, looking at it. "You have visitors, if you are feeling up to it."

Noctis blinked rapidly, lifting his head. "I do? Who?"

His father chuckled. "Do you remember the child you had a playdate with a few days before your request about the Crystal? Prompto?"

His brow furrowed. Prompto had only met him once. "Why would he be here?"

"He comes once a week to visit." His father smiled softly. "It seems you made quite the impression." The smile broadened warmly. "He is a sweet young man, I know you two will continue to get along." His father pat the fist bunched in Noctis' lap. "Ignis and Gladiolus are here as well. So what do you say?"

"Y-yeah. I'm just surprised."

His father frowned, but then gave him a tired smile. "After this, please rest. I will see you in the morning."

"Yeah, ok." His father got up from the bed with a grunt, retrieving his cane. "Um, thanks, Dad." His father gave him another sad smile and stiffly went to the door and out into the waiting area. There was hushed conversation, then Prompto was poking his head around the open door, looking like... Prompto.

"H-heyaz!"

"Hi Prompto."

The blonde looked surprised, straightening. Then he grinned sheepishly. "Oh, your dad must have told you I was here. I- I hope you don't mind. I-I can wait out in the-"

"Kid, move, you're blocking the road," Gladiolus said gruffly from behind the door, pushing it open the rest of the way.

"O-oh, sorry!" Prompto jumped up, scurrying into the room.

Gladiolus huffed, but he had a lopsided grin on his face as he strode in. Ignis was trailing behind him. "Hey Noct." Gladiolus leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"Your Highness," Ignis added. "How are you feeling?"

Noctis smiled a little, heart aching. It was so good to see them as he remembered them. And whole. There were no huge fractures in their friendship.

No, there was _no_ friendship. They only knew a strange, nine-year-old boy, so why were they even there? Noctis ducked his head. "Hey guys. I'm fine. How are you?"

Gladiolus snorted. "Seriously, that's it? You've been asleep for seven years and just, hi?"

Noctis' eyebrows rose. "Is there something more appropriate?"

Gladiolus chuckled. "What, Iggy never teach you the proper protocol for greeting people when coming out of a coma?"

"Gladio," Ignis chastised, "We don't need to discuss that right now."

Noctis shrugged. "No, it's ok."

Prompto shifted restlessly, gnawing on his thumb. "So, were you, like, dreaming this whole time?"

Noctis scratched the back of his head, but paused because it felt different than he remembered. He ran his fingers down to the tips of his hair that was brushing his shoulders, frowning a little. Then comprehension that _this_ was his life suddenly hit him like a speeding truck.

"N-Noct?" Prompto inched closer to the bed.

Noctis stared down at his much larger hands. "This is really weird." His nails were neatly trimmed, and there were no calluses from holding game controllers for way too long, or from grueling training with Gladiolus.

The Shield snorted. "You're just getting that _now_?"

"Gladio, hush," Ignis warned.

"No..." Noctis mumbled to himself, "This is not ok. This isn't _fair_. I'm supposed to have more time."

Prompto grabbed his hand. "Noct, Buddy, breathe."

Noctis stared down at the thin, cool fingers wrapped around his hand. He didn't know these people. They were not his friends. These people had lived without him. They had met a nine-year-old child. Who did they think he was now? Who _was_ he now? "Why are you here?" Noctis asked, hunching. Prompto let go of his hand, shrinking guiltily.

"Because we are concerned for your well-being, Noct," Ignis said soothingly. "Between your father and us, you have not been alone a single day."

"But why?" Noctis murmured, the world blurring, "We don't know each other anymore."

Ignis chuckled warmly. "Because we _like_ you, Noct. We will have plenty of time to get caught up on the details."

"Yeah, what he said," Prompto stammered, inching back to the bed. Noctis wiped helplessly at the tears rolling down his face.

Ignis snagged the box of tissues from the end table, setting it in his lap. "But we can concern ourselves with that later," The chamberlain amended. "Would you like to tell us what you experienced in that time?"

Noctis couldn't stop crying, but he held out his left arm. "I-I made a c-covenant with an Astral no one has ever heard o-of."

"You made a whatsit?" Prompto asked, tentatively setting a hand against Noctis' back.

"Based on context, I'm assuming a contract between the Chosen of the Crystal, and an Astral, correct?" Noctis nodded at Ignis' assessment. "And which Astral would that be?"

"Nyuidj, the Asterion." Noctis wiped his eyes. "It... gave me a bunch of information, but I don’t know how much of it is useful anymore. I don't think I was supposed to be asleep for so long."

"I'm sure it's still valuable," Ignis said with a surprising amount of conviction. "But we can figure out how best to utilize it tomorrow."

Noctis looked away from them, letting his long hair obscure his vision. "W-what did you guys do yesterday?" There was a pause, and his body started to sink in absolute embarrassment.

Then Gladiolus grunted. "Yesterday was my day here. Iris came with me. She likes reading to you for some reason." Noctis could hear the nonchalant shrug in his tone.

"Yesterday," Ignis started, "I took in the new Madarame exhibit. It was exceptional. Madarame truly displays an awe-inspiring breadth of artistic talent. From traditional Lucian paintings, to more modern sculpture. Then I updated the report of Insomnian affairs I've been compiling for you for when you woke up. In the evening I took a class on brewing the perfect cup of coffee. It was quite enlightening."

Noctis realized his hands were balled into fists in his lap; he failed to relax them.

"Oh, wow, um..." Prompto scratched the back of his head, "How am I supposed to follow that up, huh?" He chuckled awkwardly. "All I did was go to class and the arcade after that. Oh! I got a high score on House of the Daemons!"

In other lifetimes, that was their favorite game.

Noctis snorted, his heart rate slowing. It was all so normal that it was... comforting. He grabbed a tissue, wiping his face, still hiding behind his hair.

No, it was comforting because they'd kept little pieces of him with them despite his long absence. They really were the best.

A palm started rubbing soothing little circles on his back, and he didn't need to look over to know it was Prompto.

Ignis cleared his throat. "We should head out and let you rest. The doctors said they will keep you overnight for observation, and then you can be transferred to your room at the Citadel in the morning." Noctis clenched his jaw to prevent himself from begging them to stay. He didn’t want to be alone. "Prompto," Ignis continued unexpectedly, "would you mind staying this evening?"

Prompto's hand stilled. "Sure. Wait, I mean no, I don't mind. Today was my day anyway." He sounded nervous.

Noctis couldn't help but hunch his shoulders. "You don't-"

"Oh no, it's fine. I mean, if you don’t mind."

Noctis finally looked up, head tilting. "Why would I?"

Prompto blushed. "Because I technically only met you like, once, Dude. Maybe that would be weird for you?"

Noctis smiled a little, ducking his head again. "No, it's fine."

"Ok then," Gladiolus said, sounding exasperated. "Let's get going, Iggy. See you tomorrow Noct."

"Yes," Ignis adjusted his glasses. "I'll see you in the morning, Your Highness." He bowed his head and then followed Gladiolus out, shutting the door behind him.

Silence settled in, Prompto's cool fingers touching the back of his neck. Noctis was overwhelmed with urges. He wanted Prompto to tell him everything. He wanted to hug him and never let go. He wanted to pull him onto the bed next to him, and just sleep, secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't wake up alone. "Um..."

"So, I brought a movie. You wanna actually watch it?" Noctis nodded, relief flooding him. "Well, scoot, I want to sit on your fancy bed too." The blonde's face was bright pink, despite the casual tone.

Noctis obliged, smiling. He tucked strands of hair behind his ear so that he could see better. "What movie?"

"SuperiorMan and the Path of Ramuh."

"Never heard of it."

"It came out this year." Prompto's eyes lit up, "Oh-m-gee, Buddy, we need to get you caught up on your superhero movies. They're actually _good_ now."

Noctis chuckled, while his stomach dropped at the reminder he'd missed seven long years. "I don't believe you."

Prompto put the disk in the player and crawled onto the bed next to him. "Just you wait and see." The blonde shifted on the narrow bed, getting comfortable as the credits rolled. They weren't exactly touching, but they were comfortingly close. Noctis tried to hide his smile. "I didn't know you were going to be awake today, and I came straight here from school, so I don't have the first in the series with me, so let me bring you up to speed..." Prompto continued to give a rambling synopsis of the first movie over the opening dialogue, so Noctis had to ask what was going on in the current movie immediately after that. Eventually Prompto trailed off and they continued watching the movie in a comfortable silence.

 

"Noct? Noct, wake up." Prompto's hushed voice sounded panicked.

Noctis was warm, he didn't want to wake up. "Mmmhmm?" He mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"S-Sorry, Buddy. Just... just needed to make sure you were only doing the wake-up-able kind of sleeping. Go back to sleep."

"M'kay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was no established Summon that fit into what I was going for for this part, sooo, pulled a lot of stuff out of my bum. The Cosmogony only covers the Astrals, and doesn’t talk about the other beings that came along with to create the planet Eos. One of those beings could have been the goddess Eos, providing her body as the planet, and at her heart, the Crystal (since it brings about the dawn). But like the Astrals she doesn’t die die, and is reincarnated as the Astral Nyuidj, kinda like the soul of humanity (the sea of consciousness, for you Persona fans). I tried to pick a name that fit the naming conventions of the other summons and was also thematically appropriate. This is just some fun shit I made up for the story.


	12. Year Eight - Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis forged a covenant with the Asterion, a hidden Astral, to persevere the memories of his lifetimes in case he was unsuccessful this time around. After Reflection is complete, he meets Luna in a dream, and she lets him know she was unable to help Ardyn, and that in his frustration he killed her. Then Noctis wakes up to discover he's been in a seven-year coma and the Empire, without Ardyn, is aggressively seeking to claim the Crystal, throwing all of Lucis into war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again everyone for the kudos and comments and subs, they warm my little despair-inducing heart.

Noctis shifted restlessly in his wheelchair. His father, Ignis, Cor, and Clarus were staring at him, waiting for him to impart the wisdom of the Astrals. "Darkness is coming,” He said, trying to keep his voice even. “Like, I mean literal darkness, and we can't stop it. Nights are going to get longer and longer over the next four years, until there's no day." Noctis paused, but no one interrupted, so he decided to forge ahead on the speech he'd been rehearsing to himself all morning while he was being moved back to the Citadel. His father had said he could wait until he'd recovered more, but his father didn't know how little time they had. "It's all the doing of Ardyn Izunia. He's infected people with a virus called the Starscourge. It turns people into daemons. I think Emperor Aldercapt is infected with it already, or soon will be.” Noctis’ hands tightened in his lap. "I can't stop it, but I can bring the light back. It's just... going to take me approximately eight years to do so. If I've calculated correctly." Silence settled heavily in the room for several seconds. Noctis looked away from the grim faces of the men around the table. He felt so small and useless in comparison.

"Are we sure of the accuracy of this information?" Cor asked finally, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.

"Yes," Noctis answered without hesitation. It was the one thing he was sure of; those other realities were too painful to be fake.

"It comes from an Astral," His father clarified. Cor raised an eyebrow, but simply nodded.

"The war is already a constant pressure on the Wall," Clarus said, "The growing darkness, with the steadily increasing daemon activity, will quickly become untenable if the war continues. His Majesty cannot-"

His father held up his hand, silencing the Shield. "More importantly," His father finally spoke, "What do you need to do to restore the light? Why must it take eight years?"

Noctis spread his hands in his lap, trying not to fidget. "I need the 13 Royal Arms, the favor of as many Astrals as I can manage without Luna," He sucked in a sharp breath, hands tightening, "The Ring of the Lucii, and to merge with the Crystal. That's what will probably take 8 years, the merging part."

"Probably?" Cor's brow furrowed. "The rest of your information is very precise, why is the time frame so vague?"

Noctis pursed his lips. The memories never occurred to him in order, but once he could lay them all out with Carbuncle's help, the pattern seemed to be one year in Reflection per lifetime. It was incredibly tangled, but he guessed he was in the eighth attempt. However, he had to sustain the lie that his information was coming from the Astrals; he just hadn't thought of the question, and so didn't have a convenient lie prepared. His heart started to beat harder in rising panic.

"You said the coma was unplanned?" Ignis spoke up, pen stilling in his notebook. "Or at least the length of it?" Noctis nodded, wary of where the line of questioning was going. "Which you also mentioned yesterday, may have affected the time table on how long it would take for perpetual night, yes?" Noctis couldn't even remember if he had said that, but he nodded anyway. "Then would it stand to reason that the precision of the Astrals' time table may fluctuate based on the moving points, where the tools needed wouldn't change?"

Cor hummed non-committally in response.

"I see," his father said. Noctis relaxed. He couldn't tell if Ignis had done it on purpose, but he'd just saved him a lot of trouble. "Where will you need to be for those eight... years." His father asked, an almost hidden note of something buried deep in his business-like tone. Clarus frowned.

"That's a little complicated," Noctis accidentally fidgeted with the ends of his hair. He forced his hand back into his lap. "I'll be in the Crystal until it's absorbed in the ring, then I'll be on Angelgard island."

The Immortal raised an eyebrow. "That little island off of Galdin Quay? Why there?"

Noctis shrugged. "Honestly don't know. It was never explained to me."

"You do realize the problem with this... plan, Your Majesty," Clarus spoke up, an almost angry note in his tone, "The city will be unprotected for an ambiguous amount of time, with unchecked daemons running about."

"And you're objecting because you have a better idea?" The King responded sternly.

"No, but-"

"Look at the bigger picture, Clarus," The King interrupted, "would you abandon the world and the light, to temporarily save one city?"

"Of course not, Your Majesty," Clarus said, but almost sounded resentful, "but the Council will not approve of this."

Noctis gaped. This was what being a king meant. His father had not doomed Insomnia to save his son, he'd done it to save the world. Noctis never wanted to be a real king. Maybe sacrificing his life _was_ the only thing he was good for.

"And I am King. My son's destiny will be fulfilled with or without the approval of the Council."

Clarus nodded, his gaze slipping away from the King. "I see, Your Majesty."

"I'm aware of two of the tombs of the Great Kings," Cor interrupted the tense silence, "but I don't know about the others. You don't happen to know where they are, do you?"

"I do," Noctis and his father said in unison. They looked at each other, a fleeting smile gracing his father's weathered face.

"But there are only 12," His father amended.

Noctis' heart plummeted. By the Six, there would only be 12 until his father died.

"Ah," his father said, frowning, "You'll need my sword as well."

Noctis pursed his lips, shaking his head. "No, they can't possibly expect me to- no, it _has_ to be fine with just 12. It has-"

His father gestured for him to calm down. Noctis snapped his mouth shut. "In eight years," his father said gravely, "It may become a moot point." His expression softened a little. "Regardless, my sword will be your sword when the time comes."

Noctis nodded, but he felt like he might throw up.

"So while you're collecting the Arms," Clarus spoke up, "we should find a way to postpone the war long enough that the daemons outside of the wall become a problem for the Empire as well. They will have no choice but to retreat, or be slaughtered." The King smiled approvingly. "It's what happens when His Highness comes back, that I'm concerned about."

Ignis cleared his throat, setting his pen down. "I've been doing some research, and it seems daemons are adverse to bright light. If we can find a way to power defensible parts of the city without the Crystal, we may stand a chance even without the Wall."

"Lestallum uses the heat of the meteor to power the city, and it will continue working even after the daemons take over everything else," Noctis added, his heart fluttering with a dangerous amount of hope. "If I go for the Royal Arms now, it may only be four or five years of darkness. That's way better than... it could be."

"Go now?" Cor unfolded his arms, scowling, "You have almost no combat training, let along the strength to walk. Do you really think you are ready to go anywhere?"

Noctis opened his mouth to argue, but his father talked over him, "Of course he will complete physical therapy first. And then you, Gladiolus, and Ignis will accompany my son to the Royal Tombs."

Cor looked startled, but didn't argue. After a moment he bowed his head slightly. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Noctis pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn’t want to wait, he didn't have the time to wait for his body to catch up, but they were both right and there was no reason to argue. He huffed in frustration.

"I think we are done for today," His father said. "Ignis, please help Noctis to his room. Cor and Clarus stay, we have strategy to discuss."

"Your Majesty." Ignis stood, bowing. He gathered up his notes.

Noctis gripped the table. "But-"

"I understand your impatience, My Son, but if you injure yourself or make yourself sick by pushing yourself too hard, your recovery will take even longer. I insist you rest for today."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Noctis ground out, trying to keep everything in perspective, like his father. He wasn't even a child physically anymore, but he was still being treated like one. His father set a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. Noctis was ashamed of his childish thoughts. He gave a faint smile back. Then Ignis wheeled him out of the room

**

 Noctis gasped, flopping onto the grass as he struggled to breathe. His legs burned. He hadn't even run a full mile, but he felt like he was about to pass out. Gladiolus grabbed his arm, checking his pulse on the wristband monitoring his vitals to make sure he was within a safe range.

"F-fuck," Noctis wheezed.

Gladiolus raised his eyebrows, "If you got air to curse, you'll be fine." He grinned. "Not too bad today, you made good progress." Noctis would have grumbled if he hadn't been gulping air. He didn't feel like he was making progress. His body didn't do anything right, even though he remembered his training from the other timelines. The knowledge just didn't translate to physical ability. Gladiolus sat down in the grass next to him. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but you're getting there."

The frantic pace of his breathing started to even out. Absently Noctis tugged at strands of hair that had come loose from his ponytail. At first he'd intended on cutting his hair to a normal length, but he appreciated the reminder that _this_ was his life, and he need to be present for it. It kept him motivated through the grueling exhaustion of just trying to walk. It reminded him he didn't have the luxury of repeating his failures. Noctis deepened his breathing, banishing the lightheadedness.

Gladiolus looked up at the glass ceiling of the Citadel garden, basking in the waning sunlight. "I think we can call it a day," he said, sounding pleased.

"Oh, thank the Six," Noctis breathed, wiping his forehead.

Gladiolus stood, brushing grass from his pants before offering his hand to Noctis. Reluctantly he let the Shield help him stand. The Shield gave him a couple seconds to verify his legs weren't going to collapse under his weight before they started heading back to his room.

Ignis was waiting for them, reading a book.

"Hey Iggy," Gladiolus gave a short wave.

Ignis looked up, snapping his book closed. "Gladio, Your Highness, ‘evening. How did it go?"

Noctis grumbled, but his shield clapped him on the shoulder. "Almost made it a mile without passing out."

He had actually passed out the first time he'd tried to run, his expectations having far outstripped his capability. He'd been so embarrassed and frustrated with himself that he'd tried to push through the total inability to breathe at a light jog. He still didn't know why Gladiolus had been so furious with him when he'd woken up. Noctis hunched in embarrassment, but Ignis was clearly pleased.

"Prompto is waiting for you in your living room."

Noctis sniffed under his arm. "Yeah, good enough." Ignis looked appalled, but had the grace not to tell him to take a shower. "I'll change real quick though."

"We'll wait," Ignis said patiently.

Noctis scowled. He hadn't fallen down in several days, he didn't need to be babysat constantly.

They were only doing it because they didn’t want to see him hurt. Noctis sighed. "Fine." He shed his clothes in favor of a pair of comfy black sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He pulled his hair from its ponytail, running his fingers through it to get out the tangles. "Ok, bye guys." Noctis said flatly, "Have fun."

Ignis adjusted his glasses. "What do you mean-"

Noctis rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Iggy," Gladiolus interrupted, chuckling.

Ignis huffed. "Good night, Noct."

Noctis smirked. "Don't stay out too late."

Ignis blushed, adjusting his glasses again. Gladiolus started laughing. Before the chamberlain could protest, Gladiolus dragged him out of the room. Noctis smiled after them, shaking his head. Then he went into the other room in his suite, where Prompto was draped on the couch, fiddling with his phone.

"Heyaz," Prompto greeted, looking up with a broad smile.

"Hey." Noctis dropped onto the couch next to his best friend, exhausted.

"So your day was that good, huh?"

Noctis leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes. "Being me sucks. Can we trade?"

Prompto snorted. "No thank you, the money's not good enough."

Noctis laughed. "Dammit, you're a crappy friend."

Prompto lightly punched his shoulder. "You jerk!"

"That's my line."

Prompto giggled. "So what do you want to do? Movie? Video games? Fishing? Grand larceny?"

"Nap." Noctis slid sideways, eyes still closed as he fell just short of Prompto's lap.

"That does not look comfortable."

"It's not."

"Then stretch out more, we'll watch TV," Prompto's tone was exaggeratedly casual. To avoid feeling embarrassed, Noctis theatrically flopped his upper-body in Prompto's lap, stretching his legs out. The blonde laughed, draping his arms across Noctis' torso. "Much better?"

"Mmm." Noctis closed his eyes again, but he felt prickly. It wasn't the first time they'd overlapped on the couch, or the floor, or wherever, but it always made Noctis' heart do fluttery things. It was sometimes too weird remembering relationships that would never be.

Prompto turned on the TV and let it do the talking for them.

Prompto was warm and just a little bit fidgety, and Noctis was half asleep when he finally realized Prompto was petting his hair absently, running long fingers through the strands pooling in his lap. He didn't open his eyes, but he couldn't help but focus on the light, steady contact. He couldn't recall a time in any of his past lives where Prompto had touched him like that. Did he like it because his hair was much longer this time around? Noctis' face warmed up.

Not that he was going to do anything about it; he'd already decided to protect Prompto by not getting involved with him ever again. It wasn't fair though, that he couldn’t have anything for himself because Ardyn would be too tempted to take it away. But he wouldn’t let Prompto be the boy with the hole in his heart, no mater how much he wanted to hold him. If he couldn't save Luna, at least he'd save his best friend.

Noctis drifted to the rhythm of Prompto's light affection, eventually settling into sleep.

He dreamed he was watching fireworks with Prompto and Luna. They were lying out on a blanket in lush grass, snuggled together.

**

Noctis slowly opened his eyes to a red glow in the twilight. Costlemark Tower was open. He sat up, stretching. He'd been running through his pervious experiences with the tower with Carbuncle, in preparation for retrieving the Sword of the Tall. They'd delayed it until last of the Royal Tombs in Lucis, so that they'd have more experience fighting together before taking on the Jabberwok. He was still not sure how they were going to manage without the covenants of most of the Astrals however. Gentiana had come to him, as promised to Luna, but Ramuh and Titan remained slumbering, and while they hadn't gone to Altissia yet, Noctis didn't hold out hope for Leviathan.

It didn't help that even with the Armiger and 10 of the Royal Arms, Noctis felt so weak and useless. His body only sometimes cooperated, he became exhausted easily, and everyone else had to work extra hard to protect him. And even then, he'd almost died in the Balouve Mines, despite knowing the Aramusha was coming for him.

However, any desire to give up was overshadowed by the first-hand experience of what Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt was doing to Lucis in his blood-thirsty quest to obtain the Crystal. It pained Noctis not to help his father's people, but they had to keep a low profile, or be swarmed by magitek troopers.

Cor came down the tower steps in the growing dark. "The path's open, let's move."

Weary grunting made the rounds as everyone else stood from the small camp they'd made next to the ancient building, waiting out the day.

"Are you ready, Noct?" Ignis asked, brushing out the wrinkles in his pants.

Noctis stretched. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Is it really that bad?" Prompto asked nervously, fidgeting with his studded belt.

"For the fifth time, Kid, Noct says it is." Gladiolus grumbled, calling his greatsword to him.

"Unless you're immune to lightning, fire, toad, and poison," Cor added wryly.

Prompto gulped. "I wish."

"Well then, it's a good thing we made enough money to stock up on curatives," Ignis said, adjusting his glasses.

"And caught all those frogs for Dr. Sonya," Prompto added, bouncing slightly.

Noctis tugged at the small red ribbon tied to his ponytail. It was hard to fathom that something so delicate could protect him from most things the Naragani could throw at him.

"And her research on the increasing darkness was... informative." Ignis pushed on the bridge of his glasses.

"If you don’t want to go you can stay out here with the giant bugs," Noctis said teasingly.

Prompto did a full-body shiver. "Icky! Into the creepy dungeon it is!"

Gladiolus shook his head as they started up the stairs. "Your priorities, Kid." Ignis chuckled behind him. They crossed the small bridge over an abyss, and down the newly opened pathway. "No red carpet, but a stone staircase is the next best thing," he remarked.

Ignis ran a gloved finger along the rough stone wall. "Huh? What manner of mechanism is this?"

"Let's move," Noctis said as he started moving down the stairs.

"Alright, let's go!" Prompto exclaimed in a surprisingly cheery tone.

"Hmmm, out of character, but I'm not complaining," Gladiolus pointed out.

"Hey," Prompto pouted, "I'll have you know I am quite manly and not afraid of this creepy tower at all!"

Gladiolus snorted. "Right."

"Focus," Cor hissed, bringing down silence as the stairs opened up into a circular room.

They made short work of a couple Gelatins pooling out of the floor, before continuing on into a narrow passage in the building only dimly illuminated by their flashlights.

"Well, this place is seriously ancient," Gladiolus said in a low tone.

"Indeed. These walls have well withstood the test of time," Ignis marveled, also speaking in a hushed tone. "A stark contrast to the ruins that lie above."

"Some of the interior columns and walkways are rubble," Noctis interjected, "But unless they changed a bunch in the next four years, I can get us through." Ignis hummed thoughtfully.

"Noct," Prompto shook his head. "I know we've been doing this for three months, but sometimes your tenses still don’t make any sense... es." Noctis snorted.

"Most languages cannot handle what Noct has experienced... elegantly." Ignis explained.

"See, I thought it was just because he's bad with words." Gladiolus grinned.

"Hey!" Noctis protested.

"Quiet!" Cor snapped, drawing his katana a moment before a dozen goblin-like daemons bubbled up into the room.

Noctis warped to a pillar near the vaulted ceiling, ashamedly taking himself out of harm's way so that the others could focus on clearing the room. That didn't stop him from taking devastating, warp-striking potshots at stray goblins, or ones trying to corner Prompto.

When the cackling of goblins had faded into the ancient stone, Prompto let out a quiet whistle. "So far, so good."

Noctis sighed. "Yeah, I think we'll be fine until about halfway down when we start running into the Galvandes."

"Those are the exploding, multiplying, lighting things, right?" Noctis nodded at Prompto's question. "Hurray..."

"Leave those to us," Cor said as they continued descending into the dark. "I don't want you anywhere near them, Your Highness."

"But-"

"Your timing is still sometimes off," The Immortal said bluntly, "If you were warp-striking one at the wrong moment, you would be dead, and this would all be for naught."

Noctis scowled, but he didn't argue. He couldn't afford to be the cocky boy his training in the other lifetimes had afforded him. Prompto discreetly pat him on the back.

Noctis led them over a fallen pillar when a gaping hole blocked their progress, actually thankful that it was already the way he remembered it. The ruins made the path pretty straight-forward, until the block labyrinth below.

The group fought their way through several more hordes of daemons until they reached the second ramp spiraling downwards. Noctis' heartrate started to climb as he remembered what was waiting for them below. "This is where I started to find them," Noctis warned in a low voice. Everyone tensed, slowing to a cautious gait. The shadowed ramp started to glow with a purple light, the crackle of electricity raising the fine hairs along his arms. The sound was joined by the chittering cackle of goblins as they scrambled out of the ramp around them.

Noctis warped backwards as Gladiolus swung his greatsword in a wide arch, scattering the goblins. Four large, glowing violet balls of electricity and charred flesh, floated up towards them, each beginning to expand and block any forward progress, or even a chance of warping around them.

"Focus on the biggest one!" Noctis warned, "Don't let it explode!"

Gladiolus, Cor, and Ignis descended on the first one in their path, unable to get to the one in the back that was expanding more rapidly. Prompto stood back, frantically firing at the one the other members of the retinue couldn’t reach. Goblins swarmed them, clawing, biting, and swinging their small sickles. They weren't doing a lot of damage, but they were dangerously dividing everyone's attention.

"Move!" Noctis called, but didn't wait to hurl the Blizzaga spell into the fray. Everyone was shivering from cold as frost formed on skin and stone alike. The small blizzard howled in the expansive tower, but his friends kept fighting despite the freezing conditions.

Noctis warped behind Prompto, stabbing a goblin that had climbed out of the floor behind him. The Galvande in the back contracted into a black lump that dropped to the ground.

The second one exploded.

The concussive force of the blast sent Noctis into the back wall. He looked up from where he’d fallen at the top of the ramp, ears ringing. Everyone was on the ground. No one was moving. And now there were five explosive monsters, another Galvande expanding to a dangerous size.

Cold spread through Noctis. He staggered to his feet as he heard a lilting song beneath the roar of an ice storm that wasn't there. He let Shiva in. Gentiana appeared beside him as he hugged himself against her bitter chill. She did her dance as a myriad of ice fairies, freezing everything in her path as he dropped to his knees, teeth chattering.

The daemons shattered, leaving a fading field of white.

Black dots speckled Noctis' vision as Shiva faded from view, and he almost succumbed to the dark. Instead he lurched to standing, pulling a Mega Phoenix from the pack of supplies, using it to jerk his friends away from death's door. And _then_ he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was really weird writing Noctis explaining the plot of the game to other people! And screw Costlemark Tower and those damn exploding bastards. ALMOST as bad as regenerating lighting cats with insta-death attacks. Almost. THE ADAMANTOISE WAS EASIER.


	13. Year Eight - Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Costlemark Tower is rough. Especially if you’re under-leveled by a coma. Noctis summons Shiva when shit goes sideways, and discovers how draining his abilities can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets pretty dire and I earn that mature rating again. Also suicide warning.

"Noct! Noct! Wake up!" Prompto called him back to consciousness. He reluctantly pried open gummy eyes to find everyone hovering over him at the bottom landing of the ramp.

"Is everyone ok?" He asked blearily.

Prompto gave a short laugh, but it sounded panicked. " _We're_ fine, you're the one that wouldn't wake up no matter what we tried."

"What happened, Noct?" Ignis asked.

Noctis slowly sat up, feeling fuzzy, but otherwise fine. “Everything went sideways, so I summoned Shiva?”

Ignis’ lips pressed into a thin line, his brow furrowing. “You weren’t badly injured, so that’s what exhausted you to the point of passing out?”

Noctis tugged at his ponytail. “I guess? I don’t remember it being that draining before.”

Prompto reared back, “You’ve summoned an Astral before?”

“Uh…”

“I believe he means in the memories from the Astral,” Ignis explained. Noctis nodded his confirmation.

“Can you move?” Cor asked, piercing eyes scrutinizing him.

“Y-yeah.” Noctis stood, wobbling as all the blood rushed to his legs. Prompto was at his elbow, but he waved him off. “I’m fine.”

Cor frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

The Immortal nodded. “Then let’s move.”

They started walking, the passage opening up into another room littered with the debris of a lost civilization.

“How much further until we get to the spawning area you mentioned, with the labyrinth?” Ignis asked, close to Noctis, probably concerned he’d black out again.

“We’re close.”

“W-what if you have to summon Shiva again?” Prompto questioned, fidgeting with his wristband.

Noctis shrugged. “Then I do it. Although honestly, what’s down there isn’t nearly as bad as what we’ve already faced.” It wasn’t a complete lie. “I’ve never seen more than a couple Galvande this far down.”

Prompto shivered. “I’m not cool with almost dying again.”

Gladiolus snorted. “Then don’t.”

Prompto rolled his eyes. “Very helpful there, Big Guy.” The Shield chuckled in response.

They fought another couple nests of goblins and Gelatins on their way to the spacious switch room of Costlemark Tower.

Prompto was immediately drawn to the glowing red switch. “What’s th-”

“Don’t touch that!” Noctis exclaimed, lunging for his friend’s arm. “That teleports you back to the entrance.”

Prompto reared back. “Why wouldn’t they properly label something like that?!”

“This whole place is obtuse,” Noctis grumbled. “Even which elevator you can use first changes.” Noctis led them into the cavernous, gloomy room. Despite his warning, the first switch they tried activated.

“It appears that luck is on our side,” Ignis said.

“For the moment.” Gladiolus added.

Noctis shivered at the ominous words.

**

_Prompto giggled, wriggling further down in the sleeping bag he was squeezed into with Noctis. Long fingers trailed down Noctis’ stomach, dipping towards the inside of his right thigh._

_“S-Shhh,” Noctis stammered, stifling his own laugh, “You’ll wake them.”_

_“So,” Prompto whispered, looking up at him with a smirk, “I bet you like a show.”_

_Noctis choked. “I do not!” He hissed. Prompto pressed his face against Noctis’ shoulder, trying to suppress short, snorting laughs. Noctis forced a disapproving frown. “Hey, focus!”_

_Prompto seemed to finally remember where his hand was resting, and resumed his slow, sliding path, running his nails up Noctis’ crotch through the fabric of his pajama pants. His breathing hitched. Prompto’s fingers breeched the waistband, slipping beneath the black plaid fabric. Noctis bit his lip, trying to keep silent as Prompto took him in his warm palm, wrapping his fingers around his already hardening length. The blonde pressed a light kiss to the side of his neck. Noctis bit down harder, making a little, high-pitched whine._

_Gladiolus continued snoring not ten feet from them, Ignis hidden on the other side of their shared tent. Noctis covered his mouth with a hand as Prompto started up a steady, deliberate rhythm. He could feel the vibration of another giggle against the sensitive skin at the crook of his neck._

_Gladiolus had staunchly nixed the idea of a separate tent, citing security concerns on their journey to Altissia, but that hadn’t completely stopped his boyfriend and him from seeking out a little time to themselves while they steadily headed for a wedding_ _he wasn’t prepared for. And didn’t want._

_Noctis was pretty sure Ignis knew what they were up to, he was a light sleeper, but the chamberlain charitably held his tongue._

_Noctis moaned into his hand as a squeeze from Prompto brought him back to the present. Prompto started moving faster, twisting, and Noctis clamped his other hand over his mouth as well, gasping. Prompto snort-giggled, pressing his moist lips against skin. Noctis squeaked, pressing his hips forward insistently._

_And then Carbuncle was on his chest, black eyes shining._

_> >_Noct! Wake up! Hurray!

Noctis’ eyes snapped open. Something was flashing towards him. He phased, rolling off his bed and onto the floor in a tangle of sheets. A man in a Kingsglaive uniform was standing over him, holding a dagger. Noctis tried to move, but the sheets tangled around his body were binding him. The man started to take another swipe at him, but his eyes suddenly widened, back arching. The dagger fell harmlessly from his fingers as the man turned towards the bedroom door, revealing he had a kukri in his back. Another member of the Kingsglaive charged into the room. The two men collided on the bed, spraying blood on the mattress.

Noctis snatched up the discarded dagger, scrambling up and out of the sheets. The Kingsglaive that hadn’t been trying to murder him, stood from the bed, the other man still and bloody. “W-Wh…?”

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” The man asked, still breathing heavily. He had several cuts and scorch marks on his uniform.

Noctis’ eyes were wide and he was struggling to keep breathing. They had just gotten back from collecting all of the Royal Arms in Lucis, and he was almost assassinated by his father’s own men? “Who are you? What’s going on?”

“I’m Nyx Ulric, Your Highness, and you’re in the middle of a coup. Are you hurt?”

His heart stopped. “Is my dad safe?”

Nyx shook his head. The knife fell from Noctis’ limp fingers, clanging on the ground. “He sacrificed himself to give you these.” The Kingsglaive stepped forward, holding out the Ring of the Lucii in a gloved hand, and Noctis realized his father’s sword was strapped to the man’s back. Noctis stared at the ring, struggling to comprehend why his father wasn’t the one holding it out to him.

He was supposed to see his father in the morning, before he went into the Crystal. For once he was supposed to get a chance to say goodbye.

Nyx grabbed his right hand, shoving the ring into it. Noctis flinched at the murmuring voices of his ancestors. “Your Highness, we have to go. We have to get you to safety.”

Noctis stared at his father’s ring, hands shaking with the clamor of ghostly voices. He had no pockets in his PJs to shove the ring in.

“Now,” Nyx said insistently, eyes darting to the still open door, then back to the dead man in the bed.

He wanted to drop the ring, throw it as far away from him as possible, but he stared blankly at it instead. “Are you sure?”

Nyx’s brow furrowed, his attention snapping back to Noctis. “Of what?”

“That my father’s dead.”

Nyx’s eyes closed for a moment. “Yes. I can’t use magic anymore.”

Noctis’ mouth went dry as his body filled with numbing ice. “Who?”

Nyx shifted restlessly. “General Glauca. Though I don’t know how he got through the Wall.”

Noctis looked at the blood-soaked uniform on his bed. “Why?” He whispered, voice hitching as his vision started to blur.

“I don’t know, Your Highness, but we can figure that out _after_ I get you to safety.”

“ _This_ was supposed to be safe!”

Nyx didn’t have a response for that.

Noctis stared down at the ring in his palm. He couldn’t just keep holding it. He took a deep breath and slipped the ring on his finger. He went blind for a second, and then he was on his knees, Nyx covering his mouth with a hand. His arm felt hot, but it wasn’t ash, so he knew it could be worse. Noctis pulled the Kingsglaive’s hand away. “Sorry. I’m fine now.”

“Some sort of warning would have been nice,” The man grumbled as he helped Noctis back to his feet. Noctis could see the winged hilt of his father’s sword over the man’s shoulder.

There were 13 Royal Arms now.

Noctis fought back tears again as Nyx unstrapped the weapon from his back and passed it to him. The sword was heavy in his hand.

“Your Highness-”

Noctis stared at the sword, wondering what his father would do in this situation. “Nyx, they’re going to take the Crystal. Do I protect it, or do I leave now, and go to the heart of the Empire to get it later?”

Nyx looked at him skeptically. “You can protect the Crystal?”

Noctis shook his head. “No. I mean, sort of, more like use it before they get to it.”

Nyx raised an eyebrow. “What good would that do?”

Noctis sighed. That was his answer. “I need you to find someone for me and deliver a message,” Noctis wiped away the tears that had escaped. “Find a royal retainer named Ignis Scientia. Tell him we’re still going ahead with the plan, and I’ll meet them on Angelgard.”

“Wait, wha-”

“Promise me you will do this,” Noctis commanded, trying to imitate his father’s stern tone, “without fail.”

Nyx looked startled at the abrupt change in demeanor, then saluted, fist to his chest. “I promise, Your Majesty.” The words sent a chill down Noctis’ spine. “But what are you going to do?”

“I need to get to the Crystal.”

Nyx shook his head. “That’s too dangerous, you’ll be killed.”

Noctis smiled. “I’m going to the one place the Empire can’t touch me. I’ll be fine.”

“But-”

“Escort me to the Crystal,” Noctis interrupted again, “then go. Don’t tell anyone else what I told you. Ignis will handle the rest.”

The Kingsglaive looked bewildered, and Noctis wondered what the man saw. His expression settled into obedience and he nodded. “As you wish, Your Majesty. Let’s go.”

“And call me Noct.”

Nyx quirked a small smile, then headed to the door, peering cautiously into the hallway. He motioned Noctis forward. The Crownsguard that had been posted outside of his room was dead; probably too surprised by the betrayal of the Kingsglaive to fight back.

Nyx silently lead him down the hallway, and Noctis marveled at how quiet and deserted the Citadel seemed. “Where is everyone?” Noctis whispered.

Nyx pursed his lips for a moment before answering. “The Kingsglaive had been deployed on a mission to assassinate General Glauca, when some of them turned on us.” His voice was low, eyes scanning for enemies, “I came back to warn the King, because communication was disrupted, but the General was already here.”

Noctis nodded numbly. He didn’t even know who General Glauca was, but he was confident Ignis could fill him in on the details.

They reached the bank of elevators without meeting any resistance. There was one Kingsglaive standing at attention there, however, and blood stains where the Crownsguard should have been. Noctis put his father’s sword in the Astral realm, pulling out his Engine Blade, since it was easier to throw.

Nyx held up his hand. “Wait for my signal,” He whispered. Noctis nodded. The Kingsglaive charged around the corner. Noctis didn’t look, but he heard a surprised gurgle, and then a thump. Several seconds of silence later the ding of the elevator rang out. “Now!”

Noctis flung his sword into the open elevator, warping after it. Nyx slid in after him, slamming the button to close the doors. The elevator music was jarringly incongruous with the tension of the situation.

“If anyone’s up there already, this will draw their attention,” Nyx warned.

Noctis watched the small display counting the floors as they passed them. “I only need a path to the Crystal. After that, go. If you don’t deliver the message, I’ll actually be screwed, Nyx.”

Nyx saluted again. “You better be right about this. If you die because I left you…”

“I promise.” Noctis said with a smile he hoped was reassuring, when he really wanted to cry. His father was dead, and he never got to say goodbye. Again. He wondered if anything ever really changed in the lifetimes he lived, or if he was doomed to repeat all of the important mistakes for an eternity.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Noctis activated the Armiger. He couldn’t sustain it for long, it was too draining, but he only needed to get down one very long hallway. Nyx stared at him, eyes large, then the Kingsglaive shook his head with a low whistle. He poked his head out for a second, then motioned that there were four traitors waiting for them.

Noctis sucked in a breath, then flung the blade into the wall, using the momentum to bounce off it. He threw the blade in mid-air, embedding it in the chest of the traitor coming to check on the elevator. He warped after it, pouncing on the man. The rest of the arsenal darted forward, towards the three men opening the door to the Crystal.

Noctis took a couple short warps to close the distance, then took out his greatsword to catch them all in one swing. As they struggled to recover, Noctis short-warped into the one closest to the door, slamming them both through the entrance. The Armiger fanned out behind him, and Noctis leapt out of the way, letting the weapons spear the man into the wall.

Noctis turned back towards the door. “Nyx?!”

“I got this!” He heard from the hallway, followed by a grunt, “Go!”

“Good luck!”

“You too!”

Noctis dismissed the Armiger, sinking his hand into the Crystal. It didn’t hurt, but the warmth hollowed him out, numbing and absolute. He couldn’t stop the panicked thought that the Crystal was consuming him, and he instinctively struggled against it. But it was too late. It sucked him in, leaving behind a panicked cry in the silence.

“Gather strength, O Chosen...”

**

Noctis opened his eyes to bright lights warding against the darkness.

“Holy shit! When did he get there?!” Prompto’s voice was a screech.

Noctis blinked the blurriness out of his vision to find his retinue, plus Nyx, in the stone prison. Noctis stood, teetering as blood rushed to his head. Everyone surged to their feet. “Hey guys,” Noctis greeted lamely, heart swelling at the fact they weren’t in pieces strewn on the ground.

Prompto laughed, but it sounded delirious. He surged forward a few steps, then lurched to a stop.

“You really have to work on your entrance, Noct.” Gladiolus said with a grin.

“Welcome back,” Ignis added.

“Yeah,” Prompto echoed.

Nyx brought his fist to his chest, saluting him. “Your Majesty.”

Noctis stared up at the night sky, trying to pull the lives that were not his own away from his active memory. Reflection this time had tangled them up in his head, making them feel both more real and incredibly disjointed. He cleared his throat as he looked back at the worn, older faces of his friends. “What did I miss?”

Prompto laughed again, but it sounded nervous. The men looked at each other.

Ignis adjusted his glasses. “I prepared a report, but the short form is that the Empire took the Crystal and destroyed the city. The refugees from Insomnia went to Lestallum in preparation for the darkness, giving us time to expand the city’s infrastructure to compensate for the influx of people. By the time there stopped being daylight, the Empire had collapsed because of the Starscourge.”

“Since then, we’ve been waiting.” Prompto said, his voice low.

Gladiolus bumped his shoulder. “We’ve been doing more than that, Prompto.” He grinned at Noctis. “Iris and Cor formed a group out of the old Crownsguard that protect the city.”

“They call Iris a Daemon Slayer,” Prompto added, “when _some_ people just stopped calling me ‘Kid’.” He finished with a pout. Gladiolus chuckled.

Noctis was shocked at the jolt of jealousy; they’d gone on without him again. “Oh.”

“Did you accomplish your goal, Your Majesty?” Nyx asked, snapping Noctis back to the situation.

“Uh… Yeah…” Noctis said, then ran his thumb over the ring reflexively. “I’ve got the Crystal. All that’s left is to get the Royal Arm near Cartanica Station and then head to Altissia and do…the…well… lay Ardyn to rest.” Noctis licked his lips. “What has he been up to?”

“He has been suspiciously silent,” Ignis informed him, “But no one has seen anyone from Altissia in over four years.”

Noctis exhaled slowly. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe Ardyn’s silence meant he had contented himself with waiting.

Or it meant Ardyn had a city of daemons. But he hadn’t occupied Insomnia, where Noctis figured Ardyn knew he would need to go to bring back the dawn, so he was either content, or waiting for something. Noctis shivered. Some of the things Ardyn had done to him had become very tangible during Reflection, and he finally began to doubt if he _should_ save the Usurper.

But was the daemon-infested man really responsible for his actions anymore? What was left of the original Ardyn? In his short time with the Starscourge, another Noctis had experienced just how insidious the infection could be.

“Are you tired?” Prompto asked shyly, looking away for some reason.

Noctis shook his head. He _was_ tired, but he knew what they were really asking. They’d waited eight long years for him, it was time to finish what they’d started. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” Prompto asked in clear disbelief. Noctis nodded.

Ignis pushed up his glasses with a gloved hand. “The Regalia, outfitted with the special headlights we found, is on the ship. The rails stopped running in the Empire not long after the Emperor turned into a daemon, and the car will be invaluable in a land overrun with them.” The chamberlain smiled faintly. “We are ready to leave when you are, Your Majesty.”

“I still think we should take some of the Crownsguard with us,” Nyx interjected.

Gladiolus huffed. “And leave Lestallum unprotected? Hell no. We’ve got this, right Noct?”

“Right,” Noctis confirmed, despite his total lack of confidence.

“Besides,” Ignis pushed up the bridge of his glasses again, “more manpower would require an exponential increase in transportation accommodations, including space, fuel, and safety on the road. This is the most efficient capacity in the long-run.”

“Alright, I get it,” Nyx grumbled. “All you had to say was it was a bad idea.”

“It’s a bad idea.” Ignis responded flatly. Noctis chuckled.

“Alright, pack up your things, men,” Gladiolus said, clearly relishing the formal tone, “We’re moving out.”

**

Noctis took a deep breath, letting it out with a measured slowness. He stared up at the dilapidated Leville in the eerily quiet city of Altissia. He was not ready to face Ardyn. He had all the trappings of readiness, but ever since Reflection, fear had cast a deep shadow over the hope that Ardyn would quietly welcome an eternity of peace.

Or as Gladiolus bluntly put it, death. What had he been thinking as a child? Who would actually want what he had been offering? Death was what he’d been promising Ardyn in his letters. ‘Wait for me, I’m coming to kill you.’

Was that a form of torture?

Even with the completed Armiger, Noctis knew he would lose if Ardyn fought him earnestly, because even with all the training the collection of the Royal Arms had given him, he was still missing years of experience that he knew would be needed to face Ardyn.

But he had to try. He had made a promise.

“You ready, Buddy?” Prompto asked in a low voice, a steadying hand on his lower back.

“Yeah.” But he couldn’t get his legs to move.

“Come on, Noct. It’s just this one last thing, then we can head home.” Gladiolus said, coming up on his other side.

“It’s been a long time,” Ignis added softly.

“We’ve beaten both Leviathan and Ifrit, two _Astrals_ , how much harder could this guy be?” Nyx asked, spinning one of his kukris absentmindedly.

“He’s patient.” Noctis responded without even looking at the ex-Kingsglaive. “Ifrit and Leviathan are not.”

“In other words,” Ignis said thoughtfully, “Be prepared for a trap.”

Noctis grimaced. He’d tried to convince them to stay with the boat, since he knew they would be helpless against Ardyn, but they’d been impossibly stubborn; he just hoped he could protect them if Ardyn decided to harm them instead of incapacitate them.

“Noct?” Prompto prodded softly.

Noctis moved, walking into the lobby of the old hotel. It was grimy; algae from the ocean breeze forming on every surface.

“Welcome.” Ardyn’s voice boomed from where he was standing at the top of the curved staircase, his arms spread in invitation. Black ichor was leaking from an impossibly wide smile. “Make yourselves at home.” Noctis watched as the man descended the staircase one methodical step at a time. “What brings you to my humble abode?” Noctis opened his mouth to answer, but Ardyn interrupted him, “Oh right, you’re here to relieve my _suffering_ , dear Noctis.” Cold prickled up Noctis’ skin as he tried to suppress a full-body shudder. “So kind of you.”

“Hey-” Gladiolus started, but Ardyn flicked his wrist and darkness engulfed the members of his retinue. When it retreated they were unconscious on the ground.

“What did you do to them?” Noctis asked, voice pitched high from panic.

Ardyn raised an eyebrow. “This is a private conversation, is it not?” He smiled languidly. Noctis’ lips pressed into a line. “Before we get to the part where you murder me,” Ardyn chuckled, “will you indulge a few questions?”

Noctis’ gaze slid to the floor. “I’m not here to…” the lie died on his lips. “What did you want to ask?”

Ardyn placed a finger under Noctis’ chin, forcing his gaze to lift. Noctis flinched, lurching back a step. Ardyn’s smile cracked even wider. “How did you find out my true name?”

“A Messenger told me,” Noctis said, knowing the exact truth would be too unbelievable.

Ardyn’s smile faded, his head tilting. “Which one?”

Noctis balled up his right hand reflexively. “Carbuncle.”

Ardyn blinked several times, frowning slightly. “I’m aware of all 24 Messengers, there’s no Carbuncle. How about you try another lie?”

Noctis’ heart sank. “I’m not lying. It said it was a Messenger.”

Ardyn’s brow furrowed. “Of who?”

Noctis licked his lips. “The Asterion.”

Ardyn took a step away from him, looking him up and down, brow furrowed as darkness dripped down his chin. “I would say you’re delusional, but you did manage to get my name right.” Ardyn brought a finger to his chin, a faint, utterly new smile turning the corners of his mouth. “You are a strange creature.”

Noctis bit his lip, staring at the ground again. “I’m going to bring back the dawn with the light of the Crystal. After that, I won’t be able to help you if-”

“ _Help_ me?” Ardyn cut in sharply. “You _betrayed_ me! Do you call that help?”

Noctis looked up, eyes widening. “I what?”

“I did what you asked,” Ardyn gestured, “Stepping down as Chancellor, out of curiosity. I waited for you, but you never came.” Noctis gaped at the pain clear in the man’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” Noctis said softly, heart squeezing in his chest. “I was speaking with the Crystal, and was in a coma for seven years. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

Ardyn snarled. “It’s always about the Crystal, isn’t it?”

“But-”

“I had _plans_ for us,” Ardyn talked over him, sweeping his hands out, “and you ruined them with your meddling.”

“Ruined?” Noctis choked. “M-meddling?”

“I have been waiting for you since before you were born,” Ardyn said in a low, dangerous tone, “I would have shaped you into a great king, worthy of your undeserved title. Instead you came to me, a sniveling little child who can barely stand.”

“I-”

Ardyn hissed, the red Armiger with the arsenal of the forgotten kings exploded into light around him. “Many sacrifice all for the King,” His voice was growing warped and gurgley.

Noctis stumbled backwards, calling the Armiger. The forgotten kings darted forward in a deadly dance that Noctis struggled to keep up with. Ardyn advanced on him until his back was to a wall and he was shaking with the effort of maintain the Royal Arms.

“Please do-” Noctis cried out as a sword slipped past his defenses and plunged into his left thigh. His concentration broke the Armiger apart, and he was pinned to the wall, immobilized by the glaives impaling him.

Tears blurred his vision as Ardyn came up next to him, black-stained lips near his ear. “So must the King sacrifice himself for All.”

Ardyn removed the Ring of the Lucii with a gloved hand. He hefted the ring experimentally, a wide smile on his face. And then he walked away.

The glaives of the forgotten kings dissipated, dumping Noctis on the floor, a pool of blood and crumpled limbs. As his eyesight dimmed, he heard something plink into the water, accompanied by a low chuckle. Then everything went dark.

**

At first Noctis was too leaden and exhausted to comprehend the snatches of sound that floated to him on a sea of darkness. He was vaguely aware time was passing without him, but his body refused to cooperate. At first. But slowly the stretches of sound became longer, and he was aware of light in the darkness.

“Is… awake yet?” Prompto’s voice filtered in on the hazy light.

“Not yet…” Ignis answered more clearly, “…However, he is healing nicely.”

“Aren’t you sick of taking care of him?” Gladiolus asked in exasperation.

Noctis stopped struggling to open his eyes.

“He _is_ our King,” Ignis answered smoothly, but didn’t say ‘no’.

“King of what?” Gladiolus countered disdainfully. “We’re stranded on this Six-forsaken island, we’re never going to see Lestallum again.”

“And His Majesty let Ardyn take the ring,” Nyx added, “The world’s doomed anyway.”

“You… have a point.” Ignis conceded.

“Uh, Ignis,” Prompto said, tone hesitant, “Are you sure he’s asleep? I think he’s crying.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Gladiolus groused.

“I’ve been keeping him sedated while his wounds heal.” Ignis explained.

“Who cares if he can hear us?” Gladiolus said, “Hell, I hope he knows how useless he is now.”

“Yikes, that’s harsh, Gladio,” Prompto said, “He doesn’t have to be _completely_ useless.” His tone was sly.

“What do you mean?” Nyx asked warily.

“Ah, it’s time for his next dose,” Ignis said to no one in particular. Noctis felt a distant prick in the dark numbness.

“Yeah, what do you mean, Prompto?” Gladiolus asked.

“Ugh, you’re going to… say…” Prompto’s voice was faded and watery.

“Find… what…” the words were becoming too distorted to make out.

“… …indelicately… …. …”

All sound faded away to blackness.

**

Something solid and warm was in his mouth. He tried to open his eyes, but the lids were too heavy to move. The thing rubbed his stretched lips as it pulled out with a sloppy popping sound, leaving behind a watery, sharp taste. He tried to move his mouth as it slid forcibly back in, but his body refused to obey him. Grunting accompanied the thrusts, and Noctis’ recognized it as Gladiolus. He couldn’t feel anything but the hard, throbbing organ in his mouth and the ache in his jaw.

“Hurry up already,” Nyx whined distortedly, “It’s my turn.”

“S-Shut-uh-up!” Gladiolus grunted back.

Noctis desperately tried to dive back into the darkness, but Gladiolus’ dick in his mouth pinned him to awareness. He hopelessly switched to trying to fight off the paralysis of his limbs, with equal failure.

“Gladio,” Nyx growled, “Ignis is going to kill you if you cum in his mouth. Remember what happened last time?”

Gladiolus chuckled, “I thought that little blonde bitch was going to shit an actual brick he was so pissed.” The Shield shifted, ramming his cock into Noctis’ cheek. “Dammit, stop distracting me.”

Nyx’s laugh gurgled in a way Noctis had heard before; it was the sound daemons made.

Noctis heard his own groan mingling with Gladiolus’ grunts.

“Shit, I think he’s waking up. Go get Ignis. I’m going to finish real quick.”

Nyx sighed exaggeratedly, followed by the sound of a door slamming. Gladiolus thrust harder and faster and Noctis could faintly start to feel nails digging into his scalp. Then suddenly Gladiolus pulled out violently, dripping warm saliva down his chin. Noctis whimpered, his slack jaw clicking closed.

There was a creaking followed by loud footsteps. “I told you to wait until _after_ I administered the sedative.” Ignis said reproachfully. “You couldn’t wait twenty minutes?” There was a sharp pain, and then all sensation faded away.

**

Noctis slowly opened his burning eyes to a weathered, light blue ceiling. His memories told him it was a room at the Leville in Altissia. He clumsily sat up, body feeling awkward and sour. The pain in his jaw and lower back made his eyes water. He smelled terrible, and the bed was damp; he didn’t want to think about why. His stomach gurgled loudly. Noctis moved his legs to get off the filthy bed, but pain shot up his spine, discouraging further movement. He whimpered helplessly, trying to reach for the empty chair beside the bed. His fingers grazed it, but it was a little too far away. Noctis opened his mouth to call for help, then froze, fuzzy memories bobbing to the surface of his addled thoughts. He knew what that lingering taste on his tongue was from. Noctis pressed a hand to his lips, praying that had just been nightmares. It seemed like he had been abandoned though, and he wondered if it was because Ardyn had turned them all into daemons. Noctis stifled his sobs with his hands, his vision blurring.

Eventually Noctis exhausted himself, tears drying up, but he remained alone.

More time passed until thirst trumped pain and Noctis endured the agony of standing. He made it about halfway across the suite before his legs gave out and he landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. He lay helplessly on the rug, unable to summon up the will to try again. What was the point? They had either left him, or were daemons; there was no good option for him.

Noctis didn’t know how long he’d lain on the floor before the sound of the door opening jolted him out of a trance.

“Ugh. What are you doing on the _floor_?” Came Prompto’s voice, irritation clear as a bell. Noctis lifted his head, his long, matted hair partially obscuring his vision. The blonde looked like shit: hair disheveled, gaunt, blue eyes shadowed by dark rings, lips chapped and peeling. Noctis’ heart squeezed with a cloudy mix of sadness and dread. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I-I tried to walk.” He sounded hoarse, his throat dry and scratchy.

Prompto snorted. “Not surprised you can’t. You’ve been out for a few weeks.”

They’d kept him drugged for _weeks_?

“Come on, let’s get you back in bed.” Prompto lifted him up, dragging him to the bed and set him so that his legs were dangling off the edge of it. The blonde waved his hand in front of his nose. “Ugh, you reek.” Noctis hunched, staring at the ground, hair obscuring his vision. “Sorry about that. We had to put Ignis down, and Gladio and Nyx aren’t exactly the motherly type.”

Noctis bit down on his lip, afraid to cry.

Prompto shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. Noctis tried not to tremble. “Hey Noct.” Prompto licked his lips, looking back towards the door. “Did you ever like me?”

Noctis jerked at the disjointed question. “W-what?”

Prompto sighed. “Figures.”

“What? No, of course I do, you’re my best friend… right?” Noctis stammered, cold cascading through his body at his own doubt.

The ragged blonde hummed thoughtfully, but still wasn’t looking at him. “Just friends. Got it.”

Noctis sputtered, digging his fingers into the mattress to keep from scooting away. “What do you mean?” He blurted out, even though he damn well knew what Prompto meant. He just couldn’t get through his head that Prompto wanted to have that conversation right then.

Prompto looked at him, expression darkening for a second, and then he chuckled, looking away again. “You know what I mean.” His right leg started to jiggle. “Well, you’re not laughing, so maybe I was right.” Noctis tried to keep breathing. Prompto giggled. “Ah, what the hell,” he said lightly, before awkwardly smashing their lips together.

An impatient tongue punched past Noctis’ slack lips. He yelped, grabbing Prompto by the shoulders to push him away. “S-stop.”

Prompto pouted, but his hollowed eyes were shadowed. “Aww, come on, no need to be so modest.” He pressed Noctis back into the mattress, straddling his thighs. Noctis opened his mouth to protest, but Prompto saw it as an invitation to invade his mouth again. Noctis pushed against Prompto’s chest, but he easily grabbed his wrists and pinned them on either side of his head.

Noctis squeezed his eyes shut. This was a nightmare. Just another nightmare. Prompto wouldn’t really do this to him. Carbuncle was going to appear any minute now and take him somewhere more pleasant. He just needed to be patient.

Prompto rolled his hips, rubbing his erection between Noctis’ legs. He accidentally let out a high-pitched whine. Prompto pulled away, a rope of saliva dripping down his chin. Noctis’ lips hurt. “Can we…?” Prompto trailed off shyly, gaze downcast. He wiped his chin with a grimy hand.

“N-no,” Noctis stammered, cringing at the erection pressed against him. “Get o-off me, _please_.”

Prompto smiled at him, lighting up his sunken face. “Aww, Buddy, I love you too.”

Noctis’ body stopped functioning. His heart was a useless stone, his body was cold, and for the life of him he couldn’t remember how to breathe. “P-please…”

Prompto slid off of him, rolling him over, then pulled his legs so that he was bent over the side of the bed. “You know, I’m really happy to hear that,” Prompto said, voice wavering as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Noctis’ pants. “Like sometimes, the way you’d look at me, when you thought I couldn’t tell, I don’t know, just seemed…” Pain was shooting up Noctis’ spine, making it hard for him to feel his legs as Prompto pulled down his pants and underwear. His hands balled in the rumpled, soiled sheets. This was not Prompto. This was not happening. It was nightmare and he would wake up somewhere else very soon. “But you never said anything, and you’re the Prince… sorry, King, and you know me, I just assumed it was wishful thinking.” Prompto thrust into him with a satisfied grunt. “But then you gave me all those BJs without crying, like you sometimes do with Gladio and Nyx,” Noctis let out a sob, the world blurring, “And you know, thanks for that. I know you feel guilty for getting us stranded here, and losing the ring forever, but I hope you didn’t feel pressured to help us out just because of that.”

Noctis whimpered helplessly as Prompto (no, a daemon wearing Prompto) built up a steady rhythm, plunging in and out of him. He wanted to get away, but he didn’t want to hurt his best friend in the whole world. He’d already put a hole in his heart once. He remembered freckles in sharp contrast to paper-white skin, as the wound poured red all over his betraying hands. He wouldn’t let Ardyn force him to do that again.

Prompto’s long fingers wrapped around his limp dick rubbing against the bed. “Aww, that must be because you’re so loose already,” Prompto murmured, and it sounded like an apology. “Let me help you.” He stroked him as he resumed his penetration, coaxing an erection out of him.

Noctis whimpered, hands tightening as he shook. “P-please d-don’t.” He mumbled, tears trickling down his cheeks.

“I don’t mind, Buddy. I want you to enjoy this too, you know. ‘Cause I love you, and all that.” Noctis started sobbing. “Aww, don’t cry, Buddy, I like you despite the whole failing to save the world thing. Hell, this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Thanks, Buddy.” Noctis shuddered, squirting cum onto Prompto’s hand, before going completely slack. The bed creaked in a staccato rhythm. Dripping fingers buried in Noctis’ long, tangled hair. “You know, I don’t think I ever told you how much I love your hair long, it’s so pretty.” Prompto tugged. “Unfair, really. Everything about you is so perfect,” Prompto jerked his hair harder, pulling his head back as he continued to ride him. “Whereas I’m…well, me.” The pace grew faster and sharper, sending bolts of pain up Noctis’ back. “You know, nothing to write home about.”

Prompto came inside him, pulling his hair and grunting in a high-pitched voice. The aftershocks seemed to last forever, before he slowly pulled out of him. Prompto crawled onto the bed, pulling Noctis’ limp, unresponsive body up towards the head of the bed. He wrapped his arms around him, cuddling up against him, even though Noctis’ pants were still around his ankles.

“That was so good,” Prompto murmured sleepily. “Let’s take a nap and then do it again, ok?” Noctis whimpered, tears leaking down the side of his face. Prompto gently kissed his neck, petting his cum-smeared hair.

The sudden realization that _this_ was his life, hit him like a speeding truck, knocking the wind out of him.

Noctis cried silently while Prompto’s breathing evened out into sleep, and then he summoned up his daggers and slit his wrists.

 

The sound of waves in the cold dark lulled Noctis out of the sea of consciousness, and into the stone prison. He was terrified as his lead heart sank him back into the depths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally get Nyx in on this, and I turn him into a daemon like a jerkwad! I’ve been very careful about Noctis not finding out what happens in Kingsglaive, cause he would totally warn his father about General Glauca, and that just leads to a completely different set of timelines. I would also like to apologize to Prompto, and pretty much everyone for writing this in a way that makes it real difficult for anyone who hasn’t seen Brotherhood, Kingsglaive, and some motherfucking bonus dungeons to understand what’s going on in this dumpster fire. But it’s too late to back down now!


	14. Year Nine - Part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis holds fear in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some remixed Platinum Demo to start out year nine!

Noctis woke in a sunlit patch of grass. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, trying to recall how he’d gotten to the grassy cliff side. He remembered catching fireflies. Was he still at the park? Then where was his nanny, Julia? She would have never let him fall asleep in a public place. Noctis looked up at the cloudless sky, reveling in the sun’s warmth on his skin.

Maybe this was a safe place.

Noctis shivered at the surge of fear that bubbled up with the thought. Had something happened? “What is this place?”

A white, furry animal, somewhere between a cat and a fox, bounded towards him, its ruby jewel glowing in the sun. It dropped a phone in front of him, then pranced away a few steps with a squeak. Bewildered, Noctis picked up the phone, listening. The phone was silent and the screen was blank. No chance of calling for help. He sighed. He wracked his brain, trying to remember where he’d come from, where everyone had gone, but nothing came to him. And why was the animal staring at him expectantly?

It squeaked at him, and at the same time the phone chimed. He stared down at the text message.

>> _Hello! Can you read this?_

Noctis jolted in surprised. “Woah!”

>> _In front of you!_

He nearly dropped the phone as he stared at the platinum animal, eyes large. “You?”

The creature squeaked in confirmation. Maybe. Then started prancing away.

Noctis didn’t want to be left alone. “Hey! Wait!” He scrambled to his feet, chasing after the white animal, then skidded to a halt when it stopped for him. The phone chimed with its squeak.

_> > This is the world of your dreams_

All the tension rushed out of Noctis’ body. If he was in a dream, it wasn’t weird that he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing. He was probably safely in bed.

The animal’s tail swished, and it bounded off again. He continued after it, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. It was a beautiful place, full of greenery and rocky crags to climb, but he wanted to see where the animal was headed first.

Noctis jerked backwards as a sudden shadow descended. Peering at him under a rocky outcropping was a giant man laced through with glowing gold. “W-woah!”

The phone chimed.

>> _Don’t worry about that guy. He may look scary, but he’s really a gentle giant._

Noctis rolled his eyes. Titan hadn’t been particularly gentle when he was flailing around trying to smash him.

The giant exploded in a shower of gold flakes, blowing away on the breeze. The animal bounced on. Noctis followed, keeping his opposing opinion about Titan to himself.

Suddenly the animal stopped, turning back towards him, chirping.

>> _You haven’t just dozed off – you’re out cold._

Noctis blinked at the creature, brow furrowing as he tried to work out what it meant.

>> _If you want to wake up and see everyone again, we’re going to have to find the exit!_

All of the tension flooded back into Noctis’ small body as he began to wonder what terrible thing was waiting for him outside.

Pain. Blood. Despair.

Noctis shuddered, his breathing stuttering. Bad things had happened, although the details eluded him.

Did he want to go back?

The animal’s tail swished, and it came back to circle his ankles.

>> _Just stick with me and you’ll be ok!_

The creature hopped off again and Noctis scrambled after, terrified of being left alone in the unfamiliar landscape. Dreams could quickly turn into nightmares.

As if summoned by his fear, two goblins bubbled up from the ground, chittering and gnashing their pointed teeth. Noctis stumbled backwards, almost tripping over himself.

>> _Gwah! They don’t look too friendly!_

_> > You won’t be able to take ‘em down bare-handed! Here!_

The toy sword his father had given him appeared in his hand. He almost dropped it in surprise, before gripping it tightly, hands shaking.

>> _Noct!_

Noctis slashed at the attacking daemons, his body moving with more knowledge than he’d been expecting, having never been in a real fight before. He took them down easily.

>>（＾³＾）～♪

The animal trilled at him, hopping. Then it turned around, looking ahead and swishing its tail. Noctis squinted, scanning for enemies.

>> _Hmmm…_

_> > Maybe this way?_

The animal scurried to the edge of a pool of water nestled among the rocky cliffs around them.

>> _Found it!_

Noctis took a wary step back. “Found what?”

>> _Follow my tail! Ready! Set! Jump!_

The creature dove into a patch of sunlight in the deep pool. Noctis jerked forward a few steps. “Wait!” His gaze turned wild, searching the cliffs for daemons waiting to pounce on him now that he was alone. Storm clouds were gathering on the horizon. A massive shadow arched out of the far off ocean, silently dwarfing the clouds. Leviathan.

Ruin and Rebirth.

He remembered a taste like licking old coins filling his mouth, cool and gelatinous, and he almost retched, even though he couldn’t remember where he’d tasted it before.

Leviathan dove back into the ocean, bringing the rain and thunder. Noctis ducked. Anywhere was better than this. He jumped into the water. He wasn’t wet, just weightless. And then he was standing in a giant, bright red bowl full of warm water. It splashed out onto the marbled floor as Noctis took in his surroundings and realized that the bowl wasn’t big, he was just tiny in comparison to the giant dining room. His dining room. The one he’d spent so many meals alone in.

>> _There you are, Noct!_

The creature, who was now also huge, circled around him, swishing its tail happily.

>> (つˆ⌣ˆ)つ

It sniffed the air, tilting its head.

>> _So… uh… where are we supposed to go next?_

              “What if I don’t want-” Noctis started to object, but goblins popping out of a stack of huge books in a corner of the room cut short his protest. They were not difficult to defeat, they were just numerous. But he didn’t get tired. He didn’t slow down. And the creature continued bouncing around, unconcerned.

>> _Hmmm… I feel a little lost_

_> > Or was it over there?_

_> > Aha!_ _I think I found it!_

_> > The tabletop!_

As Noctis dispelled the last of the goblins, the creature hopped up on the dining room table, swishing triumphantly.

>> _Ta-da! Up here Noct!_

Noctis climbed up a staircase of discarded books and blocks; his toys from when he was a little kid, playing by himself.

If only he’d met Prompto sooner.

He had.

Who?

Noctis shook his head, trying to shake apart his jumbled thoughts.

>> _Right here-_

The creature twirled around in front of an opening made of more books and colorful blocks.

_> > The house! The next exit’s inside!_

The creature slipped inside, disappearing in the dark corridor. Noctis slowly approached the entrance, running his hand along a wooden block. The animal seemed to think he needed to keep going, but did he want to? A nameless dread was building, a knot in his stomach. Did he want who was waiting for him on the other side of the dream?

His vision blurred, and Noctis wiped furiously at the eyes.

What would he do if he didn’t follow after? Stay in this lonely, distorted place?

Noctis sniffled, walking through the doorway…

…and onto the streets of Altissia. He recognized it right away, even though he’d lived his whole life inside the Wall.

Until he had to go to Altissia for the moon in the night sky, stained red.

She was fated to die.

Just like him.

Noctis shuddered.

The white creature circled his ankles, a normal size again.

>> _We’re looking for a loooooong hallway. That will lead to the end of your dream_

_> > Let’s look for it together!_

The white creature bounded up the stairs to one of the many bridges crisscrossing the city. Noctis followed helplessly behind, wondering why he was so exhausted if he was only dreaming. The creature led him from place to place, until they reached a long, red, hallway. It looked like the Leville. Noctis froze, breath leaving him. The sense of dread choked him.

>> _Up ahead is where your dream ends…_

The creature brushed up against his leg gently, letting out a softer trill.

>> _…the one place you feel safest._

Noctis let out a small sob; was there really a place like that?

The creature nudged him with a cool, dry nose. Noctis forced his legs to take him into the oppressive red hallway with its seemingly endless row of identical doors. He was trembling with the effort to not run.

_> > You’ve always been a sleepyhead. Maybe your dream’ll end with you in bed?_

Noctis glanced at the animal, brow furrowing. Had he met it before?

>> _See? I know all about you! Pretty impressive, huh?_

It felt familiar the more he ruminated on it; like a mask he’d seen before, the ruby in its forehead like a third eye. “W-what’s-”

The animal squeaked at him, bounding for the light at the end of the tunnel.

>> _Are you ready? The end is just up ahead!_

He nodded and together they stepped into the light, through the doors of the Citadel. Noctis stared blankly at the roundabout outside of the building. Was this really it?

>> _It’s the Citadel…_

The animal let out what sounded like a disappointed hum. Then it cocked its head.

>> _Hmm… something doesn’t feel right. It’s your home and all… but is it truly your safe place?_

Noctis’ heart sank. Maybe the dream had taken them there because there was no safe place from his destiny.

An Iron Giant climbed out of a pool of shadow, swinging its giant glaive. It caught the creature in its wide arch, easily batting it into a pillar. Noctis surged forward. “Nooo!”

The animal rolled gracefully to its feet, and darted between him and the daemon, hunching and growling.

>> _Don’t be afraid! I’ll protect you through your darkest dreams!_

Noctis heard his father’s voice, like a comforting whisper in his ear: _This one will protect you through your darkest dreams. But remember, Noct, in the world of your dreams, you are king._

He looked down at the comforting weight of the Engine Blade in his calloused hand. The Iron Giant might have been a threat for a child, but _he_ had taken them down before. “I’m not afraid.”

_> > Is that really you, Noct?_

Noctis snorted when his first thought was: Not yet. But then the Iron Giant was lumbering towards them. Noctis used a warpstrike to knock it away from the creature, before attacking it in earnest.

It was a little more difficult alone, but he was able to defeat the infected human, sending it back to the pooling darkness. He laughed a little as his sword turned back into the child’s toy.

>> _You did it, Noct! Now you can finally wake up!_

The sleek, black Regalia was at the opposite end of the roundabout as if it had always been there, waiting for him. Noctis’ heart lurched in his chest. He missed them all so much. He missed not being afraid of them. He missed his father.

_> > Hey, that’s your dad’s car, isn’t it? Now I get it- THIS is your safe place!_

Noctis walked to the vehicle alongside the white creature.

>> _You can always be with your dad when you’re riding in his car._

Noctis nodded as he slid his fingers along the door handle before opening it with a too-small hand.

>> _Everyone’s waiting for you._

The creature was wagging its tail, gazing up at him with large, dark eyes.

He wasn’t ready.

But it didn’t matter, because he knew he had to be. “Thanks. See you.”

>> _You bet! Now in you go._

Noctis slid into the dim light of the car, settling back. As he shut the door, he blinked. “Wait, I remember your name now, Carbuncle!”

“Let the covenant be forged anew.” The graceful Asterion was sitting next to him in the Regalia, long legs crossed. They leaned forward, brushing his forehead with the nose of the white foxlike mask. The interior of the car glowed with a ruby light.

He remembered _everything_.


	15. Year Nine - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While in a coma after the daemon attack, Noctis renews his covenant with the Asterion, Nyuidj, and remembers his other lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part focuses on some non-Nocty perspectives.

~~The Honor of a King~~

Some days it felt like his son had woken from the coma a different person, and not in ways that Regis could understand. He rubbed his brow, watching his son soak up the sunlight with Princess Lunafreya and her energetic puppies. At least she seemed to be a good influence on his quiet, withdrawn son. He still smiled for her. Everyone else received a pale facsimile of that smile, a smile that had been the heart of his life after Aulea's passing.

Noctis had barely spoken in the weeks since he’d woken, and he listened even less. When the princess wasn’t engaging him, his son was often staring into space, blue eyes vacant.

He should have been there to protect him.

Regis sighed, tossing aside the report he’d been trying to read, to watch Lunafreya push Noctis further down the garden path, speaking to him with a gentle smile on her face. He was looking up at her from the wheelchair, clearly enraptured by her words.

He should have been there.

The meeting with the Accordo ambassador, that he’d prioritized over playing with his son, seemed so meaningless now. It was the duty of a king to honor their station, but his duty as a father had withered under that devotion. It wasn’t that the people of Lucis were more important than his son, they just had more needs.

But it wasn’t the place of a child to understand such things.

Noctis should have had the hand of a queen to guide him. He had tried to find a nurturing replacement in his nanny, Julia, but now she was gone as well. Noctis had not even asked after her when he woke up. Regis knew it wasn’t because he didn’t care, but he behaved as if he’d already moved on from the grief and merely accepted that the attachment was gone.

It was strangely disheartening.

He hoped, with time, Noctis would light up again.

Regis pinched the skin between his eyebrows, letting out yet another tired sigh.

He started to pick up the report again when Lunafreya began pushing his son towards him, the obedient dogs trailing behind them. The two children were quiet, the smile faded from his son. Regis opened the sliding glass door for them, letting in a cool breeze and the scent of sylleblossoms.

“Your Majesty,” The princess curtseyed as they came up to the door, giving him a bright smile. “May I leave Noctis in your care? I need to speak with my brother.”

“Of course,” Regis responded. “Thank you for looking after him.”

“My pleasure.” The princess lightly touched his son’s shoulder. “I’ll see you at dinner, Noctis.” She said gently, but his son only gave a non-committal noise in response.

Regis opened his mouth to reprimand his son for his poor manners, but there was a sadness in the boy’s eyes that stopped him. “We’ll see you then.” He answered for him instead. Princess Lunafreya gave a small bow, then left the sitting area where Regis had been trying to focus on work. An awkward silence permeated the room in her wake. “Would you like to read with me?” Regis asked, retrieving the Cosmogony book he knew Lunafreya was trying to get his son to read. Noctis shrugged, but took the offered book without complaint. He didn’t open it.

Regis sighed, picking up his report and settling back into one of the soft, floral couches in the sitting room. “It will be hard to read with the book closed,” he teased. Noctis frowned at him, then stared down at the book, opening it to a bookmarked page. Regis followed suit, but his eyes kept drifting back to his son. Minutes passed and he never once turned the page. Was he truly just staring blankly at it? “Is something wrong, My Son?” Noctis looked up at him quickly, then averted his eyes, his small, pale hands bunched in his lap on top of the book. And yet he remained silent. Regis set his report aside. “What is it, Noctis?”

His son’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Have you ever… not done something, knowing people would die?” Noctis’ voice was small and soft, his gaze fixed on the floor. He hunched his shoulders, bending over in the wheelchair.

Regis leaned back in his chair, brow furrowing at the unexpected and solemn question. “What is this about?”

“Nevermind,” His son mumbled.

In his years as king, Regis had trained himself, with plenty of tutelage from his Shield, to pick out pivotal moments in a negotiation, and that alarm bell was ringing loud and clear now. It unfortunately didn’t guide him on what the correct choice was, but it allowed him to make the _right_ choice. “As king, some of my decisions have resulted in the death of others, but there is such a thing as the Greater Good,” Regis said, hoping honesty was the correct choice. “These are not decisions I make lightly, Noctis. It is the duty of a king and his council to explore all other options first.”

His son’s brow creased and his hands tightened further. Regis resisted the urge to give him a hug; he wanted Noctis to get out his concerns first. Clearly this had been weighing on him, and Regis wondered what was going on in the child’s head.

“Do you… reg-… does it feel bad?” Noctis’ voice was shaking.

“Noctis,” Regis started, trying not to reflect his son’s distress in his own voice, “we must use logic and reason to make the choices that are right. There is no need to regret the right choice, even if it does not turn out to be the optimal one. But yes, sometimes it is very hard to make the right choice, when the wrong choice seems easier.”

A few tears trickled down his son’s face. Regis moved to squat beside his wheelchair, wiping the grief away with his thumb. “If I could relieve you of this burden, Noctis, I would,” Regis said softly, barely keeping his voice steady, “But I know you will rise to the challenge. Someday you will be a great king.”

Noctis shook his head, letting out a small sob that shattered his heart. More tears trickled down his son’s cheeks and Regis gathered him into a tight hug.

“Until that day, I will protect you. I promise.”

“I-I kn-know, Dad,” Noctis stammered, muffled against his chest. “I-I’m sorry.”

“For what, My Son?”

“T-That I can’t protect you too.” His son let out another broken sob and Regis pushed back his own reflexive tears.

“Oh, My Son, that is not your job. Your job is to grow into the great man I know you’ll be.” He ran his hand along the back of his son’s head.

“I-I’m afraid I c-can’t do it…”

Regis pulled back so he could look his son in the eye. Noctis looked away. “Look at me, Noctis.” The boy sniffled, shyly meeting his gaze through wet lashes. “You can, and you will. But you will not be doing it alone. I will be here to guide you.”

His son’s tears renewed, round face flush from crying. Regis hugged his son again, running his hand along the back of his dark hair. He desperately wanted to know what had spurred the line of questioning, but that moment did not seem like the time to pry. “Everything will be ok.”

Regis let his son grieve.

**

~~The Head of a King~~

“Why do I have to go to school, it’s useless and boring!”

Ignis froze, hand just hovering where he’d intended on knocking, as if the indignant child had stilled it himself.

“It’s not up for discussion.” The King’s voice, more level, was muffled by the closed door. “And I assure you, it’s not useless. As I’ve stated before-”

“I’ll never be king! I don’t need any of this! Just let me stay here!”

“Noctis,” The King’s voice got so low Ignis could barely hear it (not that he should have been eavesdropping, but he _did_ have a message for the king), “You will not interrupt me when I’m speaking, and you will lower your voice.”

The 10-year-old didn’t respond, but even though Ignis couldn’t see him, he could imagine the sullen pout.

Or perhaps this time it was downcast repentance. It was hard to tell with the Prince. To say he was inconsistent in his devotion to his duties would be putting it lightly. Ever since the daemon attack, the Prince struggled with anything he found troublesome or boring. At his most heated, he would insist he would never be king, but when pressed as to why he thought that, he would clam up and sullenly do what he was told. He seemed to have less motivational problems when training with Gladiolus, however.

“That’s better,” The King said, but his tone was still firm, “your schooling is important, and besides, it will be good for you to meet other children your age.” The King’s tone softened at the end.

“I don’t want to,” The Prince said in a small, cracked voice, and Ignis wondered what Noctis was thinking; what he was afraid of.

“Noctis, where is this resistance coming from?”

The Prince remained silent. Ignis decided to save the poor child from a circular argument, and finally knocked on the door. The King sighed wearily. “Come in.” Ignis let himself in. “Ah Ignis, is Clarus  ready?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Ignis bowed his head.

The King glanced back at his son, who was staring glumly at the ground, and sighed again. “I leave him in your care.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I will see you later, Noctis.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The boy echoed flatly. The King sighed one last time, then left the room. Noctis didn’t move.

Ignis knew he should check in on the Prince’s assigned reading, but the forlorn look in the Prince’s blue eyes softened his resolve. “Noct, would you like to go for a drive?” The Prince looked up at him in surprise, and Ignis was a little surprised at the suggestion himself. Ever since he’d gotten his license, he frequently drove the Prince places, but never for fun.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about my homework?”

Ignis smiled. “We can worry about that later.”

Noctis echoed the smile, but it was faded. “Ok.”

“Excellent. Grab your coat.” The Prince followed his instruction and they left his room in a silence that wasn’t broken until they got to the car and Noctis started to climb into the back seat. “Sit up front with me, if you like.” The Prince gave him another faint smile and took the offer. Ignis didn’t turn on the radio as he started the car and left the parking garage, but the Prince didn’t complain, he just stared blankly out the passenger side window. Ignis drove and waited.

He was rewarded for his patience ten minutes later.

“Iggy, can I ask you a question?” The Prince’s voice was low.

“Of course, Noct.”

“If…” The Prince bunched his hands in his lap. “If the Wall was gone, and the Empire attacked us, how would you save Insomnia?”

Ignis frowned at the bizarre question; he really had no idea what went through the Prince’s head. “In this scenario,” Ignis said carefully, “What has befallen the King and Crystal?”

Noctis pursed his lips. “Nevermind.”

“I just want to better understand the situation, to properly advise you. It is my job.”

The Prince threaded his fingers together, staring down at his hands. “They’re… gone. For good.”

Oh. Oh, _that’s_ what this was about. He was thinking about his father’s mortality. After the attack it wasn’t a farfetched thought.

“I imagine that means magic is lost to the Kingsglaive as well?”

“Yes.”

Ignis took a hand off the wheel long enough to push up his glasses. The lights of Insomnia glittered in the twilight. “That would severely weaken our defenses and standing army. I think it would be a losing battle, unfortunately. I would instead focus my efforts on ensuring peace, or the safety of the survivors.”

Noctis smoothed out his black pants, gaze still focused on his lap. “So… you wouldn’t have some genius plan to save everyone?” Strangely the Prince sounded relieved.

Ignis chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint, I was just trying to be realistic.” He glanced at Noctis. “My apologies if that didn’t help.”

Noctis shook his head. “No, that’s actually… good to hear? I always thought I was just too stupid to figure it out. But if you can’t think of anything either…”

“Noct, you’re not stupid,” Ignis said, a little surprised at the assumption, since the Prince usually acted like he didn’t need to study, “You do well with your tutors, and your training, even when you're not... putting in an earnest effort. You are just in the process of learning, as are we all.”

The Prince went back to staring out the window, but his cheeks were pink. “Thanks, Iggy.”

“Any time, Noct.”

And Ignis meant it.

**

~~The Heart of a King~~

“Hey Noct, what’s wrong?” Prompto nudged Noctis’ shoulder with his own, but the crease in his best bud’s brow didn’t smooth out, and he continued to stare blankly at the black asphalt covering the roof of his sweet apartment complex.

“Nothing.” Noctis said, voice carefully flat. He took a sip of beer almost absentmindedly.

Prompto chewed on his lip. Noctis had made a formal text request to hang, even though he was the one to cut short arcade time earlier. It was clear some emotional storm was brewing under Noctis’ carefully flat expression all afternoon, but he’d been too nervous to pry. Noctis got defensive and snappish when he was stressed. That wasn’t too bad, however, Prompto would just get quiet and chill with him, which seemed to be enough (although boy had it been hard figuring that one out). It was the times when Noctis would rush behind a door he could lock, like he was afraid and wanted to keep the whole world out, that Prompto desperately tried to avoid. It made his heart hurt to see his bestie melt down like that. He still hadn’t found a way to help Noctis when he got that bad, beyond announcing he was leaving stage left, making it safe for him to come out. “Yeah… sure…” Prompto sighed. This was probably a time to talk about anything but the thing Noctis clearly wanted to talk about. “So…” Prompto sipped his beverage, continuing to fish for something to say. “Oh! I took some badass pictures of the Justice Monsters Five arcade cabinet! Wanna see?”

Noctis didn’t even look at him, and Prompto’s heart sank further. Whatever it was must be pretty bad. “Yeah… sure…”

Prompto mock-scoffed. “Dude! A little more enthusiasm, please!”

Noctis rewarded him with a short, breathy chuckle. “Yeah, sorry. Just, we were just at the arcade, Prom.”

“That was several hours ago. You might have forgotten its glory since then!” Prompto joked, trying to squeeze another laugh out of his buddy. Noctis was finally looking at him, but his gaze was unfocused, lips slightly parted and he must have been thinking real hard about something, because seconds of silence ticked by. Prompto tilted his head in question, afraid to actually ask what was wrong again. This seemed like the workings of a run-from-the-room-Noct.

Prompto felt his resolve to mind his own business wavering, when Noctis suddenly blinked like he was startled.

“So, show me the photos,” he huffed.

Prompto blinked back at him, honestly surprised that they’d returned to the same conversation, then he scrambled for the camera safely tucked away in his backpack. “So, what’d you have for dinner?” He blurted out, uncomfortable with the returned silence. Noctis didn’t respond, so he kept going. “Did Specs make you more of those tasty pastries? Those were amazing. I wish I had someone making me pastries all the time, but boy would my stomach not appreciate- ah, there it is!” Prompto triumphantly pulled out his prized camera, but froze when he saw Noctis’ expression. He looked on the verge of tears, eyes suspiciously bright in the florescent lights, mouth turned down with more emotion than he tended to convey. “Uh… Noct?” Prompto tried, as gently as possible. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” He said softly, a tear escaping.

Prompto tensed, trying to resist the urge to throw his arms around his bestie and give him a tight hug. Noctis rarely touched people. “Do… what?”

Noctis wiped his cheek, turning away. “Forget it,” He said almost under his breath.

Prompto’s heart stuttered. The part of him that just wanted to please people told him to drop it, but Noctis _had_ asked him over, and he was his bestie, and something was clearly super wrong, and he couldn’t just leave him to face it alone.

Noctis acted like a lot of mundane tasks were beneath him, like tests and studying, and most people would chalk that up to noble entitlement, but Prompto _knew_ Noctis was really just worried about the super intense princely shit that a pleb like him didn’t have to deal with, which probably didn’t leave a lot of room for bullshit, like tests. Prompt knew he was more a distraction than a friend, but he loved playing his part. “Terrible princey stuff?”

Noctis snorted, wiping his eyes. “Yeah.”

“I’ll listen if you want to talk, Buddy.”

“I… can’t.”

Prompto picked at his wristband. “Oh… so… secret, terrible princey stuff.” Noctis snorted again, nodding once. He sniffled. “Then hit me with a really poorly thought out metaphor. I love those.” Noctis wiped his eyes again. Several seconds passed. Prompto opened his mouth to try a different tactic.

“What if I… had to sacrifice all of Insomnia to save the rest of the world?”

Prompto’s mouth went dry. The tremor in his best friend’s voice made the metaphor seem frighteningly literal. But it couldn’t be, cause _no one_ would have to make that choice. “And… I’m guessing you’ve already tried out all the happy fun times solutions, where everyone lives?”

“I’ve tried so many-” Noctis choked on his words. He took a breath and sighed. “I think so, but I can’t be sure.”

“Oh yikes, that’s even worse.” Prompto chewed on his thumbnail. Noctis let out a short, desperate laugh. “Then…” Prompto took a deep breath, his heart fluttering. “Then you do it, but you let me help.”

Noctis jerked, staring at him. “What?”

“Look, I don’t know what a pleb like me can do, but you don’t have to face the terrible princey stuff alone.” Noctis’ shining blue eyes widened. “If you've got to be a supervillian, I’ll be your evil sidekick.”

Noctis laughed a little, and a few more tears escaped. “I didn’t know I was a supervillian.”

“Oh yeah,” Prompto said lightly, trying not to shake, “The best kind. The one you like because their intentions are good, they just had to make shitty choices.”

Noctis started crying. Loudly. He folded in on himself, drawing his legs up into a miserable ball. Prompto’s heart sputtered and died. Words were useless against whatever this was. He was useless. He set his hand nervously at the base of Noctis’ neck. When that wasn’t fended off, he started rubbing slow circles along his back, scooching closer, but not forcing any other physical contact on his broken best friend.

They sat like that for awhile, past the point where Noctis was actively crying, but he stayed balled up and small, trembling under Prompto’s hand.

“I… I don’t… want to do this… anymore.” His friend’s words were muffled by his knees. “I’m so tired… and… and fucked up.”

“I’m so sorry, Buddy.” Prompto was dangerously close to crying himself, and he didn’t even know what was going on. “If there was a way for me to do it for you, I totally would.”

“I don’t want to be terrified of y- people anymore.” Noctis started sobbing again, tearing Prompto’s heart to pieces.

He moved without thinking, pulling Noctis into a tight hug. The Prince tensed, then he started shaking. “I’m sorry,” Prompto choked, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” But as he started to pull away, Noctis clung to him, burying his face against the crook of his neck. Prompto settled back into the somewhat awkward hug, rubbing his friend’s knotted back.

Noctis had definitely been about to say ‘you’, and not ‘people’. He hid in the bathroom because he was terrified of _him_. Were they actually friends? If Noctis was scared of him, then why did he want to hang out and stuff? “Noct, Buddy, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” The tears intensified, making it clear Noctis didn’t believe him. And yet he was letting him hug him. “Ok, maybe that’s not realistic. I promise I won’t do it on purpose. Ok?”

Noctis nodded his head against him, hands tightening on the back of Prompto’s shirt. Prompto wished he understood what they were talking about. He ran his hand down the back of Noctis’ head. The black hair under his chin smelled soapy and clean. He wanted to repair whatever was tearing Noctis apart, but what could he do? What about him did Noctis find scary? “Noct? What can I do to help?”

Noctis sniffled, and Prompto could feel his t-shirt getting damp. “Just…” He sucked in a watery breath, his voice muffled against Prompto’s shoulder, “Just… keep being you.”

“You got it, Buddy.”

**

~~The Hand of a King~~

Gladiolus discreetly checked the time on his phone. Iris rolled her eyes at him.

"You better go."

He grumbled. "We're just helping him pack up his apartment. I don't know why he waited till the day before we leave for Altissia, but that's Noct for you."

His sister smiled, but it was her fake kind. "Getting married is a big step, Gladio, it's perfectly normal for someone to drag their feet on an... arranged marriage." Iris put her chin in her hand, leaning on the dining room table. "It must be rough."

Gladiolus rolled his eyes. "He's getting married, not going to war."

Iris huffed. "To someone he hasn't seen in a million years." She pushed her plate away from her. "It must be hard being royalty."

Gladiolus snorted. "Not really. At least not for Noct. He hasn't had to make a hard decision in his entire life. Hell, I doubt he'd bother getting married if it wasn't arranged for him."

Iris tsked at him. "He could fall in love."

He raised an eyebrow, then started chuckling; he knew what this was about. "Iris, Noct has a self-preservation instinct."

Iris jolted, flushing. "W-What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. He'd need a new Shield to protect him from me if he tried anything funny."

"That's not what I meant at all!" Iris balled up her napkin and hurled it at him. He caught it, throwing it back at her, laughing. She batted it away. "Jerk!"

Gladiolus' phone vibrated. He glanced down at the text message from the devil himself.

NOCT: You on your way

Gladiolus rolled his eyes. Iris got up, scooping up both their empty plates. "Thanks."

GLADIO: Just about

The response was almost immediate, telling Gladiolus Noctis was _still_ dawdling on packing.

NOCT: No one else is here

NOCT: Can I ask you a question

Gladiolus raised an eyebrow.

GLADIO: shoot

Seconds ticked by. Gladiolus sighed, standing from the dinner table. "I'm out!" He called into the kitchen.

"Tell Noct I wish him the best!" Iris called back.

Gladiolus shook his head. That girl was hopeless. "Sure."

He was getting into his car when Noctis finally texted him back.

NOCT: Do you think you'd be a good king?

He sighed. Gladiolus did not feel like engaging the prince in a pity party about how hard it was to be him.

GLADIO: Yeah sure, but that's not really my style

GLADIO: I'm on my way

Gladiolus tossed his phone in the passenger seat and pulled out of the garage. His phone screen lit up halfway to the apartment. He flicked his eyes off the road for a second to make sure nothing was on fire.

NOCT: What if I made a decision that got your father killed? Would you hate me?

Gladiolus frowned. Noctis whined about studying, about homework, about having to go to political events at the Citadel, but he never indulged in what ifs about his future as king. At least not with him. Or Ignis as far as he knew. As if becoming king one day was the _one_ thing he didn't take for granted.

Gladiolus tapped his hand on the wheel, trying to discard the correct answer: it was his family's duty to sacrifice themselves for King and Country.

But someday that spoiled, sullen kid would be king, regardless of whether or not he was prepared. And what if he wasn't, and he made a terrible king? What would he do? What _could_ he do?

Why was he even indulging the hypothetical question?

Noctis wouldn't make bad choices on purpose, he was a good kid under his stand-offish exterior, but if he applied the same attitude to being a king that he did to being a prince, he could be a disastrously weak king.

No, he wouldn't let Noctis fail when everything was at stake. He and Ignis would carry him for the country, if need-be, but he realized he harbored a secret hope that Noctis would step up to the plate when it came down to it. And he had to confront the realization that he would be incredibly disappointed if he didn't.

Gladiolus pulled into the parking garage and noticed, as he reached for his phone, he'd gotten another message.

NOCT: Forget it

Gladiolus sighed.

GLADIO: Did Ignis say it was a good idea?

The response was immediate.

NOCT: What?

GLADIO: The one that gets my dad killed. Did Ignis give the plan the ok

NOCT: kind of

GLADIO: kind of?

NOCT: kind of

Gladiolus huffed, leaning against his car.

GLADIO: If Iggy ok'd it, I'd deal

NOCT: ok

Gladiolus pushed away from the car, heading towards the elevator to the lobby.

NOCT: Tell Iris not to go to the signing ceremony

Gladiolus raised an eyebrow, typing as he got on the elevator.

GLADIO: WHy?

NOCT: itll be too boring

He chuckled.

GLADIO: I will. Thanks for the tip

NOCT: I'm sorry I can't do more

GLADIO: What do you mean?

Noctis never responded to the text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having one of those 'I don't understand how words work' times, so I'm sorry if this is a little nonsensical. I TRIED.


	16. Year Nine - Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis is burdened with the knowledge of his past lives. He sought the advice of his Council on what he should do next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m worried I went too fast in this section. I’m so sorry. Please tell me if it's really bad or confusing or you really wished I would have done... something... ;_;

“I’m not going with you.”

Noctis’ words froze Prompto faster than Shiva’s ice. He, along with Ignis and Gladiolus beside him, turned to find Noctis still standing halfway up the ramp of the Imperial ship. Ardyn was uncomfortably close behind him. His bestie’s eyes looked blank.

Gladiolus shook himself from paralysis first. “Like hell you’re not!”

“Gladio, give Noct a chance to explain his reasoning.” Ignis said smoothly, but his gaze was focused solely on their prince.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” Noctis responded in a tone Prompto guessed was supposed to be icy, but came off as… well… off.

Prompto’s gaze flicked to the Chancellor, whose smile wasn’t surprised, it was delighted. This was not a last minute decision. Prompto tried to ask what was going on, but his throat wouldn’t work.

“We’re sworn to protect you, Your Majesty,” Ignis emphasized the title no one had had the nerve to use yet; it just made the fall of Insomnia too real. Noctis flinched almost imperceptibly and Prompto resisted the urge to bite his thumbnail. “If you stay, we will as well.”

“No.” Noctis’ tone was surly, but his right hand clenched and his gaze shifted away from them.

Even though this horror show was nothing like it, Prompto was reminded of the time in school when Noctis had admitted he was afraid of him. This felt just as awful, at least.

“His Majesty needs to stop being a brat and tell us what’s going on,” Gladiolus ground out, the heat of his tone making Prompto jump.

The creepy Chancellor half in the shadow of the hulking ship, was practically giggling.

“I… order you to find Luna, and see her safely to Altissia.” Noctis was clenching his hand so hard it was shaking.

“What?” Gladiolus exploded.

Ignis held out his hand. “Your Majesty, all three of us are not necessary for this task. At least allow Gladio to accompany you while you… accomplish your goal.”

Noctis turned his back on them. “Let’s go, Chancellor.” Prompto’s best bud walked back onto the ship, disappearing in the shadows of the cargo bay.

“What the- Noct! Get the fuck back here!” Gladiolus started to storm up the ramp.

 Ardyn stepped in front of him, holding up a hand. His smile was sharp and it turned Prompto’s stomach. Surprisingly Gladiolus didn’t just push past him. “Ah ah ah,” The Chancellor tsked, “You heard His Majesty. Off you go, or,” the smile spread wider, “I’ll have to have you all forcibly removed. I’m sure that would make your king very unhappy.”

Gladiolus’ body language went from irritated to murderous. “Why you-”

Ignis was suddenly beside the Shield, leaving Prompto alone to stand numbly in the sand outside of Galdin Quay. The chamberlain placed a hand on Gladiolus’ arm. “Let’s go, Gladio,” he said in a low, steady voice.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to-”

“We have a duty to perform, or have you forgotten already?”

Prompto was still paralyzed. He wanted desperately to side with Gladiolus, because this plan of Noctis’, whatever it was, was bananas, and somebody needed to protect him.

But maybe Ardyn was just an excuse to get away from _them_. Maybe now that Noctis had the mark of the Archaean, he didn’t need them anymore.

Maybe he was still afraid of them.

Prompto’s eyes stung.

He jumped at Gladiolus’ raised voice. “I’m not leaving Noct with these... Niffs!”

Ignis pushed up his glasses, expression impossibly serene. “And what will you do? Once you fight your way past every MT on this ship, of course. His Majesty does not want us here.”

Gladiolus gaped at the chamberlain, but didn’t have a retort ready. Prompto’s heart dropped.

Noctis didn’t want them there.

Ardyn chuckled. “He makes a good point. You’ve been dismissed.”

Gladiolus growled, his hands tightening into fists.

“Come, Gladio,” Ignis said, not even sparing the Chancellor a glance, “we have our orders.”

Unexpectedly, Gladiolus turned towards Prompto, his expression dark. “Say something, Prompto!”

Prompto’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but nothing would come out.

Gladiolus grunted, turning away from him. “Ignis, you can’t be serious.”

“Don’t worry,” The Chancellor drawled, “I’ll take _good_ care of your king.”

Gladiolus’ whole body tensed, but Ignis stilled him from violence with a hand on his arm. “This is insane,” he ground out instead.

“We will discuss that later.” Ignis responded.

Gladiolus stared at Ignis for several seconds, then tsked. “You better be right.” He stormed back down the ramp, off the ship, and past Prompto. Prompto was too afraid to look after him.

“Your negotiating skills are superb, Iggy.” The Chancellor said with a wicked grin.

Ignis didn’t respond before he turned around, walking off the ship. Ardyn chuckled, pushing a button on the wall that pulled the ramp up with an agonizing slowness. Prompto looked on, dread as dark as the ship’s cargo bay.

“Come with me.” Ignis said in a low, compelling tone. Prompto slowly turned from the sight of Noctis abandoning them, to follow Ignis to the trailer in the parking lot. He felt like he was walking through jelly, everything kind of hazy and glassy.

“You better have a good explanation for this,” Gladiolus barked the second they were within earshot.

Prompto looked back. The ship lifted off, taking Noctis away.

Ignis hummed thoughtfully before he spoke. “Noct suspects that Lady Lunafreya has the Ring of the Lucii, and the Chancellor will try to obtain it.”

“But-”

“And I believe, based on our success with the Archaean hinging on the cooperation of the Chancellor, that Noct thinks he can use him to collect some of the Royal Arms while we secure the ring.” Gladiolus gaped at him. Ignis pushed up his glasses. “I, of course, don’t approve of such a reckless plan, but Noct left us little choice. If we attacked the Chancellor, he may have withdrawn his support.”

“B-but why all three of us?” Prompto finally stammered out. “Why did he go _alone_? W-we’re supposed to protect him!” He tried to stuff down the urge to cry.

“That…” Ignis frowned, looking away.

“He doesn’t trust us.” Gladiolus offered flatly.

“Of course… he…” Prompto’s body felt heavy; it was too plausible to be denied.

What had he done to Noctis that was so unforgiveable? Was it even worse that he didn’t know? Prompto scrubbed his eyes, sucking in a breath.

Ignis sighed. “We can only speculate, but unfortunately that is the most logical conclusion.”

Gladiolus huffed. “Ok, I’m not going to let Noct get killed because he’s being a dumbass, though. So what do we do about it?”

“We gain his trust by securing the ring.”

“That’s not good enough, Iggy.” Gladiolus crossed his arms. “I’m not leaving him alone with the Chancellor of Niflheim.”

“But we already did.” Prompto heard himself say glumly. He chewed on his thumbnail in the silence that followed.

**

Noctis locked himself in the bathroom of the ship’s ‘guest suite’, where he hoped there weren’t any cameras, and took out his notebook. He flipped through his notes, shaking hands running over the smudged pages.

Ardyn seemed content while Noctis led him around the continent to collect the Royal Arms.

The ship lurched, and Noctis braced himself against the sink, the turbulence signaling they were passing into Ramuh’s storm. He sat down on the closed toilet lid when the shaking didn’t abate.

Ardyn seemed too eager, but the Chancellor gave him no space to think about why. The only time Noctis got to himself was in the bathroom, or when he was tossing and turning in the foreign bed. Carbuncle didn’t seem to be able to reach him on the ship, leaving him with only nightmares; an amalgamation of his myriad memories and his fears.

Noctis turned to his pages on Ardyn for guidance:

 

Name: Ardyn Lucis Caelum

   -immortal because of the Starscourge

   -*wants to make me a ‘great king’/challenge

   -jealousy

   -*wants me to suffer? Endure? Be humiliated

   -needs to be in charge

   -doesn’t like sympathy

   -*wants me to act like a brat

   -very strong

   -no one can help me

   -*will kill the people I’m closest to

   -especially Prompto

   -*wants to spend time alone with me

   -*wants me to be afraid

   -can use very realistic illusions

   -doesn’t want to die or be healed

   -controls the world

   -doesn’t want the Crystal, but will take it because I need it

              -same with the ring? No

   -*I can’t stop him unless it’s a physical fight and I’ve had years of training and all of the Royal Arms

   -Destroyed the Empire to spread the Starscourge

   -fuck I can’t stop him I’m so fucked

 

The pages were warped and smudged from past tears, and he had to close the notebook to keep it from getting worse.

Had he actually managed to make Ardyn happy this time?

Noctis scrubbed his eyes, pressing his lips in a line to keep from making any noise. He was running on adrenaline and frayed nerves; his heart jumping every time Ardyn ‘accidentally’ brushed against him, or spoke, or entered the room, or smiled, or even when he couldn’t see him, because who knew what terrible things he could be up to. His muscles were so tense the scar on his back ached constantly.

And then his friends ganged up on him in his dreams. If they weren’t being killed by Ardyn, they were just as bad as him.

But he knew Ardyn loved his constant, barely concealed terror, because he was always smiling, and sometimes those ‘accidental’ touches involved concealed erections brushing against him. If he kept Ardyn happy with his misery, though, long enough to collect everything he needed for Providence, it would be worth it.

He deserved it anyway. He had sacrificed both Tenebrae and Insomnia for his goals.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, and Noctis screamed in surprise.

Ardyn’s chuckle was barely muffled by the thick door. “Noct, I’m sorry if I startled you, but we’re here.”

He hadn’t even noticed the ship had stopped rocking. “I-I’ll be out in a minute!” Noctis shoved his notebook in the lining of his jacket, rubbing at his damp, hot face; he couldn’t make it too easy for Ardyn.

“Alright,” Ardyn called back, “I’ll wait _right here_ for you.”

Noctis shuddered. Ardyn was never going to leave him alone. His eyes burned from exhaustion, but he was afraid to close them, or take much longer to collect himself, because a locked door wasn’t much of a challenge to the Usurper if he wasn’t feeling charitable.

Noctis opened the door, lips pressed into a line. Ardyn was standing so close he was blocking most of the doorway, forcing Noctis to brush past him. “Let’s go.” He said flatly.

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Ardyn chuckled, catching up to him before he reached the door of the suite that _should_ have been private. Bile stung the back of Noctis’ throat. He stalked down the corridor, but Ardyn easily kept pace with him. “Your Majesty, have you been crying?” The mock sympathy turned his stomach.

Noctis scowled even as his face flushed. He ran his hand under his nose. “Of course not,” he snapped.

“Are you ok, Noct?” Ardyn was doing a terrible job of sounding concerned.

“I’m fine,” Noctis spit out, hand tightening. “Mind your own business.”

“Mmm, after our adventures together, some would say you _are_ my business. We are friends, aren’t we?”

Noctis didn’t look, but he could almost feel the smugness radiating off the monster. He clamped his jaw shut to prevent himself from saying something actually damaging, and kept walking.

Ardyn chuckled. “I can see why your friends gave up on you so easily.”

His heart dropped. It wasn’t surprising, was it. With his memories, he’d had little room to be a decent human being. He was annoying, insecure, a total letdown of a prince and as a friend, and he was _terrified_. He liked to tell himself he’d made a sacrifice, that he’d sent them to Luna for their protection, but he was mostly just scared Ardyn would turn them against him, _again_ , and he couldn’t take that. Even though he knew they’d actually done nothing to him, sometimes, especially when he was tried, he couldn’t keep straight what had and had not happened to him. What could still happen to him.

“If I remember correctly,” Ardyn interrupted the silence, “we’re going to take the lovely Regalia to the key points you’ve mapped out for us, to open the Trial of Ramuh, go inside, fight the nasties, and then claim your prize?”

Noctis grunted, continuing to keep his jaw locked as they made it to the back of the ship, where the poor Regalia was waiting for them; along with the small army of MTs that would be accompanying them in the dropship.

Just a little bit longer. He just needed to hold on until they got to Altissia.

**

Prompto stood mesmerized by Luna’s singing. Beside him, Gladiolus and Ignis seemed to be in a similar trance. Light glinted off of the ocean, giving the Lady a beautiful halo, her arms outstretched, back straight and proud. This is what it meant to be the Oracle.

Out of the depths of the water came a hollow, distorted voice speaking an alien language. Prompto swallowed, shifting where he stood at the base of the dais.

He wanted to be with Noctis instead, but the prince was somewhere even Umbra couldn’t reach, no matter how many times Luna tried to send him the letter pleading with him to come back to them. To where he would be safe.

“It is I,” Luna responded to the foreign language, her voice carrying without shouting, “blood of the Oracle! Goddess of the Seas, I beseech you: enter into this covenant that the King might reclaim the Stone!”

Water erupted in a tidal wave, giving birth to a giant, serpentine monster, and even then, only half of the arching body could be seen. Droplets of water from Leviathan’s entrance clung to their skin.

“Woah.” Gladiolus said, clearly in awe.

“Oh… my.” Ignis added.

“Holy shit!” Prompto squeaked, locking his knees to keep himself from running like a scared little baby.

The Hydraean shouted at Luna, beating her fins in clear disgust.

“I do,” Luna responded calmly, even though her hair was damp from the monster’s fit.

Leviathan roared, rearing as she spoke again in a tone that vibrated along Prompto’s skin. She swooped downwards, narrowly missing Luna as she felled half the archway above her. Luna didn’t so much as flinch. Gladiolus surged forward a step, but Ignis was quick to place a hand on his arm, stilling the shield.

“I know what you must know-” Luna returned, gripping her trident, “that the King of Kings is to drive the darkness from our star.”

The Hydraean howled, dark as twilight against the failing light.

The trident lowered slightly. “What do you mean, ‘Fallen King’?”

“Oh shit,” Prompto breathed.

“What does she mean, ‘Fallen King’?” Gladiolus echoed through clenched teeth.

“Is she… perhaps referring to King Regis?” Ignis mumbled to himself, but he sounded skeptical.

The water monster seemed to chuckle her response.

“No, wait!” Luna pleaded, “Please explain! What has happened to Noctis?”

“No no no nonono,” Prompto let out accidentally, but it was drowned out by Leviathan’s response; she was clearly laughing.

Luna turned towards them, her blue eyes large. “Look out!” Then the Hydraean snapped her jaws down on her. The three of them lurched forward, but a golden light shot up into the sky and the sea goddess reared back. Luna was miraculously in one piece. Gladiolus, who hadn’t stopped moving, came up beside her. His shield and greatsword materialized in his hands.

That meant Noctis wasn’t dead.

“Get back!” Luna exclaimed, “She’s going to destroy the city!”

Gladiolus grinned. “Then we’ll have to stop her! Can your fancy trident do more than shoot pretty lights?”

Luna smiled back, her brows drawn together in clear determination. “It doesn’t need to, for I am the Oracle.”

Gladiolus chuckled. “I wish Noct had as much sense as you do. Maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess. Ok, come on, let’s take on a goddess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Noct’s journal. Back when this fanfic was a baby-idea, it wasn’t going to be much more detailed than a laundry list of the timelines, like the notebook. WHOOPS.


	17. Year Nine - Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis joined Ardyn to collect the Royal Arms, leaving his retinue behind to help Luna. Which turned out to be necessary, because Leviathan rejected the covenant on the grounds that Noctis is the Fallen King… whatever that means…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this part: Artsy bullshit courtesy of the Omen trailer (if you haven’t watched that, I’d recommend doing so before reading this part), unreasonable amounts of fever-induced plot-porn, and torture. Good luck and I apologize in advance.

Noctis stared at the lightning rod that should have been glowing with the power of Ramuh, but was dull and brown instead.

“Something wrong?” Ardyn asked beside him, tilting his head. For once he didn’t sound sarcastic.

Noctis huffed. He reached out to the stalagmite buried deep in the cave system, lightly brushing his fingers along it. Nothing happened. They’d completed the trial (it was easy with the MTs, even with Ardyn pretending he couldn’t control the daemons that attacked them), so what had he done wrong? Noctis hit the natural pillar with the flat of his hand. “I know Luna was here; you showed me. What else do I need to do?”

Suddenly a voice boomed in his head like a roll of thunder, making him cringe.

I DO NOT SERVE THE FALLEN KING

Noctis pressed a hand to the side of his head even though he knew it wouldn’t help.

“Are you alright?” Ardyn inquired, but his voice sounded distant.

“What do you mean, ‘Fallen King’?” Noctis asked, his heart fluttering with panic.

YOU SERVE THE DARKNESS THAT SNUFFS OUT THIS STAR

Noctis felt a cold pit in his stomach. “That’s not true! I’m just, I thought-”

YOU WILL DO IT AGAIN

“Oh dear, is the Fulgurian rejecting you because of me?” Ardyn guessed in his faded voice.

“No, _please_ ,” Noctis touched the pillar again, “Y-you can’t do this to me!”

YOU MUST GO

Noctis cried out at the howling words, Ramuh’s voice like a tornado in his brain. “Why?” His eyes watered. “I didn’t know what else to try.”

YOU MUST GO

The pain of the command knocked Noctis into the dark.

**

_Noctis pulled into the rest stop and walked through the convenience store doors into Luna’s bedroom. An electrical storm was raging beyond the safety of the large, glass window. Noctis pressed his palm against the glass._

_He remembered._

_“To crown the King of Light is the calling of the Crystal. Only the True King, anointed by the Crystal, can purge our star of its scourge.”_

_He was not the True King_

_He was the Fallen King_

_Maybe he could finally be free._

_He remembered driving down long, twisting roads, where Luna, no Pryna, was waiting for him. His dad’s Regalia skidded and rolled, rejecting him. This wasn’t a dream because it hurt when he hit the ground, his irritated skin burning on the asphalt. But he got up and followed Pryna anyway._

_Somewhere else the Fallen King was fighting Luna. Her white dress, her pale skin, smudged with his soot._

_He remembered._

_Luna was fated to die._

_He was following an older, wiser, Carbuncle through the bleak desert his subconscious had become, to a boat that carried them to a memory of a train filled with Imperial soldiers. Soldiers that didn’t notice him. Because he was Luna, a princess of Tenebrae. An Oracle no longer of consequence._

_That he’d let fall. Over and over again._

_Like the Fallen King._

_Pryna led him from the train at Cartanica station, where the soldiers finally noticed him. They tried to stop him because Luna was gone. His friends should have been there to help him. Hurt him? But only Carbuncle was there to guide him down into the darkness._

_Carbuncle’s eyes glowed like burning coals._

_He remembered._

_The Fallen King was fighting Luna because she didn’t understand that it was better this way. That he was stronger. That he could protect them from the darkness._

_Once everyone who had wronged him payed for their crimes. He wouldn’t be the victim anymore._

_The trident of the Oracle clattered to the ground. He picked it up to give it back to Luna._

_She hadn’t told him she was dying. She had tricked him, trapped him in grief and love. Once._

_Before that he had been fighting waves of Imperial soldiers trying to stop him. But they couldn’t._ He _was stronger._

_But there were so many of them._

_He fought to exhaustion and beyond._

_He fought even though the Astrals abandoned him. Even though the Crystal abandoned him._

_Just as it had with Ardyn._

_Because he was not the king they demanded he be._

_He remembered Pryna dying in service to him. Eyes vacant, lying on her side, motionless. Noctis tried to run to her, but again fell into darkness, cold and smelling like old coins._

_He remembered Luna sealing his fate._

_“And I’m the Chosen?” He had asked her._

_“Yes.” Her voice was warm, like her healing magic._

_“I guess I can do it. I won’t let you down.”_

_“I know you won’t.”_

_She had sounded so certain._

_He remembered he was clutching Luna’s trident._

_He was splattered with blood._

_Luna’s blood._

_Because she was fated to die._

_He wouldn’t let her down._

_That’s right. Pryna had never been with him, it was the shadow of Carbuncle that led him._

_Led him through dark memories that reminded him they had all hurt him._

_He dropped the Oracle’s trident._

_He killed Luna with the trident. Her warm hand outstretched, touching his heart._

_He wouldn’t let her down._

_He remember he loved his friends._

_He remembered he wanted to make his father proud._

_Noctis dropped to his knees, screaming._

_He had failed them all. They had never tried to hurt him, that memory a shadow of what was true._

_Luna was fated to die in service to him._

_“Please kill me!” He sobbed._

_Ramuh remembered._

_“How many must die before you are satisfied?” Regis asked._

_Bahamut answered in a voice distorted by distance and sorrow, “I have seen many deaths, but now I am only looking forward to one. And then I can rest.”_

_The Chosen’s father looked out over the protected city of Insomnia. “He will take responsibility, you know.”_

_“As must we all.”_

 

Noctis jerked awake in the bed on the Imperial ship, head throbbing. He surged into sitting, fighting with the tangle of the covers, breathing ragged and short, knowing that the nightmare was a final gift from Ramuh. The memory of storms.

He needed to get away from Ardyn.

He needed to get to Altissia where his friends were waiting for him. He hoped.

Noctis measured his breaths, trying to calm down, but a knock at the door made his heart jump.

“Noct, may I come in?” Ardyn’s words were a rippling shudder that ran through Noctis’ body.

He wanted more time. He wanted to be alone, but he doubted ‘no’ was an actual choice. “Fine,” he called instead.

When Ardyn entered, he looked… muted, his mouth turned down slightly. “Noct, you gave me quite the fright when you collapsed. You seemed like you were in a lot of pain. How are you feeling now?”

Noctis hunched his shoulders. “I’m fine.”

Ardyn gave him a faint, modest smile. “Does your head still hurt?”

Noctis hunched further, looking away. “It’s fine,” he mumbled.

Ardyn nodded, then moved into the bathroom. Noctis tensed. When the Usurper came back out, he was holding a couple of pills and a small glass of water. “This should help, with the headache you don’t have.” He slowly approached the bed, offering the treatment.

Noctis took the medication, careful not to touch him. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Ardyn brushed off his hands, putting them in his pockets. “Dinner has been prepared. Will you eat something?”

Noctis downed the pills to hide his nervousness at the monster’s sudden kindness. Ardyn was definitely up to something. “I’m fine.” Noctis said flatly, even though his stomach was in an eternal knot.

The gentle smile faded, but it wasn’t replaced with anger or frustration. “It’s been several hours since you collapsed, you must be hungry. You don’t have to eat with me, but you should try to eat something. Shall I have dinner brought to your room?”

Noctis pursed his lips, the sudden guilt reflexive. “No, that’s ok. I’ll go,” he said before he could stop himself, sliding off the bed. He wobbled. Ardyn was at his elbow, steading him. “I’m fine!” Noctis pulled away.

Ardyn held up his hands slightly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your personal space.”

Noctis flushed. “I-it’s fine.” He pulled on his boots, which had been set by the foot of the bed.

The muted smile returned. “Are you sure?”

Noctis scratched the back of his head, shifting. “Y-yeah.”

“I appreciate the company. It’s no fun dining alone.” Ardyn motioned towards the door. “This way then.”

Noctis swallowed. He knew that feeling.

As they left the room, Noctis wracked his brain, looking for a memory where Ardyn had been this polite, and suddenly realized he’d left his jacket, and his notebook, in the room. His heart fluttered nervously in his chest, but it would look suspicious if he turned back for his jacket; the ship wasn’t exactly cold, and Ardyn wasn’t wearing a coat either. He would have to leave it unprotected for now. His right hand tightened reflexively.

Ardyn was suspiciously quiet all the way to the dining hall. “Here, have a seat.” The man motioned to a small table with one place setting. “I’m sorry, I was almost certain you would have opted to eat in your room.” An MT brought out a second place setting as he spoke, quickly and efficiently setting the table. Ardyn’s ship had no human servants. Noctis sat down, at a loss for words. “I hope you’re ok with breakfast for dinner?” Ardyn asked as he sat down across from him.

Noctis loved breakfast; a lot of waffles and no veggies. “That’s ok.”

Another MT came out with two plates piled with French toast, bacon, sausage, and scrambled eggs. Another was carrying water and glasses of orange juice. It all looked good, but Noctis’ stomach felt squirrely. The orange juice, at least, would probably be safe. He took an experimental sip. It was clearly freshly-squeezed and a little tangy, it tasted pretty good.

Ardyn took a big gulp of his juice, and then started to butter and syrup his French toast. “I hope everything is to your liking, Noct.”

“I-it’s fine.” Noctis stammered, taking another nervous sip of his beverage.

They sat in silence for several minutes while they ate. Well, Noctis mostly just drank his juice, and thought about trying to force down food. Ardyn wasn’t even constantly staring at him. Noctis mentally combed through his notebook, but couldn’t recall a time when Ardyn’s kindness hadn’t seemed creepy. Where he’d maybe acted like the man he’d once been. Noctis had no doubts that the Usurper’s civility wasn’t genuine, he just didn’t understand to what end.

Ardyn set down his silverware, dabbing his mouth, bright from syrup, on his napkin. “I’m sorry to pry, but what happened back in the cave?”

Noctis started. Maybe Ardyn just wanted information, and that was the reason he was treating him like a human being. He drained the rest of his juice as he fished for words. An MT brought him another glass. “Um…”

“Did you receive the Mark of the Fulgurian?” Ardyn prompted.

Noctis stared down at his plate, stabbing a piece of French toast with his fork. His stomach didn’t feel so tight. He swirled the piece of food in the syrup, watching the pattern it made. “No.”

“Did Ramuh give you a reason for refusing aid?”

Noctis frowned, putting the eggy bread in his mouth. The buttery taste was pleasant on his tongue, and his eyes fluttered closed as he swallowed, savoring the sensation. It was better than the nauseous tension he’d been feeling.

Then he remembered Ardyn had asked him a question. Noctis blinked his eyes back open, flushing. Ardyn was just smiling softly at him. “He said… he wouldn’t serve a fallen king. Whatever that means.”

Ardyn hummed, the action making his lips pout slightly. “ _A_ fallen king, or _the_ Fallen King?”

Noctis frowned, sipping his juice. It was sweet like the syrup, but cool going down his throat. “The. But what does that matter?”

“How curious.” Ardyn said, taking a bite of sausage. Noctis watched the bob of his throat while he swallowed. “The Astrals like titles, you were to be the King of Kings, and yet,” Ardyn gestured vaguely.

Noctis licked his lips, tasting the combined residual sweetness of the juice and syrup. He took another gulp of the orange juice. Wait. What had Ardyn just said? “Huh?”

Ardyn ran his thumb along his bottom lip. “It would suggest you are somehow no longer fit to be the Chosen of the Crystal.”

Noctis slid down a little in his chair, legs falling open as his body relaxed from its rigid tension. “I…m… unfit?”

Ardyn pat Noctis’ hand, resting limply on the table; it was cool and calloused. “I wouldn’t take it personally, the Crystal is quite fickle.”

“What… d’do wrong?” Noctis measured several breaths, trying to focus on the thread of the conversation, but each inhale caused a subtle shift in his clothing brushing along sensitive skin. It felt nice. Experimentally he ran his hand down his thigh, the sensation sending a jolt to his crotch. He inhaled sharply.

Ardyn shrugged. “It’s probably something mundane, like not following their exact plan, but…”

Noctis licked his lips, brow furrowing. “But?” He shifted, hand sliding to the inside of his thigh, stretching the fabric against his crotch. He remembered what it would feel like if Prompto’s fingers were there instead.

“We could make it much more interesting.”

“Mmmm… how…” Noctis asked, but he was distracted by his hand rubbing between his legs under the table. He felt good, better than he had in a very long time, or ever, he wasn’t sure which, making it difficult to care what was being said. He wanted Prompto there, inside him, touching him, and he was getting hard just thinking about it. His eyes fluttered closed as he slipped his hand down the waistband of his pants, touching himself. Noctis groaned at the heat that pooled in his stomach, happy he didn’t have to worry about anything else.

Prompto unzipped his pants for him, freeing his erection. Noctis opened his eyes a little to find the room dark, his lover no more than a shadowy shape hovering over him. He let his eyes fall closed again, moaning as Prompto’s cool fingers started to stroke him. A hand slid under the hem of his shirt, pushing it up to expose his already hard nipples to the cool air. They were pinched gently, and rolled in calloused hands.

Noctis’ mouth fell open, head rolling against the back of the chair. Prompto kissed him softly, and he tasted like what Noctis imagined the Oracle Ascension coins would taste like, coppery and cool. It was strangely pleasant, and he craved more of it, exploring Prompto’s mouth. His lover continued to palm his length in tantalizingly measured strokes. He hummed against the moist lips pressing against his.

He was so hard, mind reeling from the gentle assault of pleasure he was receiving. Noctis urgently pushed his hips against Prompto’s hand, and his boyfriend generously sped up, causing him to let out high-pitched gasps, head tilting over the back of the chair.

Prompto stopped kissing him, pulling away that heady taste. Noctis whimpered. “W-wait…” His chin was tilted up further, stretching his throat. His gaping mouth was filled with a cool, thick organ dripping precum; it tasted strongly of the sacred coins. Noctis was so happy that Prompto deciphered what he wanted and was willing to give it to him, that he cherished the taste even more, sucking it down greedily as he came in Prompto’s hand.

His undone pants slid down his thighs, exposing sensitive skin to the cool air slowly before they were removed completely. Noctis moaned, spreading his legs and lifting his hips to give Prompto better access to him. Arms hooked under his thighs, lifting him higher, tipping him further over the back of the chair so that Prompto’s organ shot the delicious taste down his throat. He swallowed as more squirted in, filling his mouth. He greedily drank as much as he could, the rest sliding down the sides of his face.

Something slender and cool was slowly pushed inside him, the pressure comfortable, as the spent cock pulled out of his mouth. The organ inside of him pulsed, slowly ballooning out, spreading him open. Noctis felt conflicted. He wanted Prompto inside him, but he also wanted more of that sweet taste settling in his stomach. “P-please…”

It turned out he didn’t have to choose. He was blessed with another dripping cock sliding into his mouth as Prompto’s cool, long cock pushed into him with a gentle, unhurried rhythm. Noctis wrapped his legs around Prompto’s waist, pulling him in deeper, and tilting him further over the chair to get more of the organ in his mouth. A dizzying amount of sensation was flooding him as he was penetrated from both ends. His own, renewed, erection was throbbing, bobbing in the cool air. Prompto was kind, and began stroking him at the same unhurried pace he was entering him at. It was lovely, but at the same time frustrating.

Noctis was about to voice his frustrations, when the organ in his mouth throbbed, filling it with cum. He swallowed, greedily trying to keep up, but again it was too much for him, and as it pulled out, ropes splattered his cheeks. He licked his lips, savoring the taste of the holy coins, as Prompto came inside him, filling him with a soothing coolness. He followed soon after, body shuddering from orgasm as he splattered his exposed stomach.

He should have been spent, but he felt the rolling wave of want swelling inside him almost immediately. Noctis whimpered, but pleasantly Prompto was prepared, filling him again from both ends.

As often as it came, Noctis began to think he’d never be released from his cycle of need, but Prompto lovingly obliged him, satisfying him until his body couldn’t take it anymore and he slouched exhausted in the chair.

All he wanted to do was crawl in his bed and sleep, but he didn’t have the energy, so he sprawled shamefully, dripping, and like a clearing fog, he wondered why he’d let himself be used by the daemon-infested clones, and why he’d thought it was Prompto, when he’d abandoned him. Why he’d so thoroughly let his guard down around Ardyn.

“Bring him over here.” Ardyn’s voice cut through the silence on cue.

Noctis’ boneless, sweaty body was lifted off of the chair and he was placed on his back on the table. He tried to roll on his side, tell Ardyn that he wanted to be left alone, but it hurt to move his jaw, and Ardyn opened his legs to slide between them, shifting him back onto his back. Noctis groaned.

“I was going to leave you be,” Ardyn said, voice soft, “to see if it would work without my interference, but watching what you let those MTs do to you was too tempting.”

Noctis groaned again, and while he didn’t want Ardyn inside him, he couldn’t muster up the energy to fight. He could barely feel it anyway. He squeezed his eyes shut, shame turning his stomach.

_At least he’d enjoyed himself, for once in his miserable life._

No. What he’d done was wrong, even if he’d unreasonably been so eager for it. Noctis whimpered and Ardyn chuckled, continuing to pump into his exhausted body.

“You really are eager to please.” Tears leaked down the sides of Noctis’ face. “I think you’ll make a splendid Fallen King.” Ardyn pulled out, and Noctis couldn’t even tell if he’d cum or not. “But first, let’s see if this turns you into a daemon, or makes you more like me.”

An MT slung Noctis over its shoulder, carrying him, naked and dripping back to his room, dropping him on the bed. He heard the click of a lock when it left. He pulled the blanket around him, crying himself to sleep.

**

Noctis woke shivering and crusted in dried semen. He rolled on his side, groaning. He curled into a ball. His entire body hurt; a pulsing ache in his low back and jaw, a terrible reminder of what he’d put himself through.

_At least this time they were gentle._

Noctis whimpered, hugging his knees to his chest. Ardyn must have done something to him, to make him behave like that. The aspirin maybe? He squeezed his eyes shut, but tears still leaked out.

What was he supposed to do now? Ramuh had rejected him, and the rest of the Astrals would likely follow. Ardyn was… experimenting on him? He was disgusting, he couldn’t possibly face his friends now.

_Did he really want to? Now that he’d finally gotten rid of them?_

What if he couldn’t even use the Ring of the Lucii as the Fallen King?

_Maybe that meant he was finally free of his cursed destiny._

But who would bring back the dawn now?

_The Astrals could easily find some other sucker. It probably didn’t even matter who it was._

But what could _he_ do?

Noctis pushed his stiff body into sitting, then still trembling, slid off the bed. He winced as he walked into the suite bathroom, locking the door before turning on the shower as hot as he could. There were no towels or soap, so he sat in the tub, scrubbing his skin with his nails. The heat thawed the icy pit in his stomach as he cried, the shower drowning his tears.

He didn’t leave the shower until the water started to get cold. Dripping, he walked back into the main room, wrapping himself in the comforter while he looked for clothes. There was nothing in the suite beyond the bedsheets.

_That sick fuck. How had he ever thought about helping him?_

Noctis tried the door, shivering as the heat from the shower faded. It was locked. He tried to summon the Engine Blade, and wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t. He went back to the bed to sit down, pulling the comforter tighter around him. Droplets of water from his wet hair dripped down the back of his neck. He waited for Ardyn to start gloating.

He needed a plan.

_To make Ardyn pay._

To escape and get to Altissia.

_But why? They wouldn’t want him back. Luna wouldn’t want him. He had failed._

Maybe he could still fulfil his duty without the power of the Astrals. Had he tried that before? Without thinking, Noctis reached for the notebook that was no longer there. He froze. “Oh no no no no no.” Fresh tears dripped down his face. Ardyn most definitely would have discovered it by now. Maybe he’d even found it after the Trial of Ramuh, and that’s why he’d been so nice to him. Noctis wiped his flushed face. He tried deep, steadying breaths, retreating further into the comforter wrapped around his exposed body.

_What did it matter anyway?_ Ardyn had forced him to taint himself with the Starscourge in the most humiliating way possible. He couldn’t use the ring anymore. He was useless.

Maybe Ardyn and the Starscourge were just a form of divine punishment. _And he was never meant to bring back the dawn._ Fated to cycle endlessly for his choices. _As a punishment he didn’t deserve._

Noctis went back to the door, first tugging on it, then pounding on it with his fists. “Let me out!” He screamed.

No one came.

**

Noctis lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he’d slept several times, and his stomach was cramping from hunger. When he could muster up the energy, he stumbled to the bathroom to drink water from the faucet, but no one had come and he was literally shaking from starvation. His hands were bruised from pounding on the door, his pleas the only sound that penetrated the lonely silence.

Just as he was thinking that, there was a creak. He struggled into a sitting position just in time to see the door to the suite close again with the hollow click of the lock. On the floor was a tray with a pork chop, French fries, and a glass of milk. It was probably drugged. _What did it matter? He was_ starving.

Noctis scrambled off the bed, stumbling to the tray. He didn’t even bother moving it, just fell to sitting before it and wolfed down the meal, licking his fingers clean when he was done.

He went back over to the bed to pull the discarded blanket back over his naked body, focusing on the warmth from the food in his stomach. He waited.

The room became pleasantly warm, and he lay back down, eyelids drooping. He snuggled down in the softness of the blanket, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest with his breathing. He let his eyes close as he felt his growing erection push against the blanket.

_It’s fine, go ahead, what else are you going to do in here?_

Noctis pushed his hand into the folds of the comforter, wrapping around his length and slowly started stroking himself. He moaned at the one good sensation he’d had in probably days. His mouth watered as he remembered Prompto’s hands on him, filling him, the taste of his strangely cool cum on his tongue, like the holy coins.

It didn’t take long for Noctis to cum in his hand, and he wondered if he tasted anything like the MTs. Prompto. He brought his fingers to his lips and gave them an experimental swipe. It was incredibly faint, but underneath the bitter taste, it was there. He lazily contemplated what that meant as he sucked on his fingers.

“You want more, don’t you?”

Noctis’ eyes fluttered open at Ardyn’s question, and he was a little surprised to find the man standing beside the bed, a slow smile spreading across his face. Ardyn probably tasted even better than the MTs. Noctis hummed his answer.

“I’m happy to oblige. Come here.” The Usurper motioned to his crotch.

Noctis slid off the bed, leaving the blanket behind to lower himself, kneeling before Ardyn. The man’s pants were a dark chocolate, with stripes of cream running through. Noctis ran his tongue along the bulge in the fabric, taking in the rough texture.

Ardyn buried his fingers in his hair. “Please stop teasing me, Your Majesty.”

Noctis unzipped Ardyn’s pants, freeing his already weeping cock. He lapped up the droplets, confirming his guess that the delicious taste was more enticingly potent in the Usurper. Noctis moaned in anticipation. Ardyn tightened his fingers against his scalp as Noctis eagerly sucked on his length, taking him in as far as he could. He was already getting hard at the promise of more, and he touched himself as he licked up Ardyn’s shaft.

The Usurper came almost violently, an explosion of the bright, metal taste. Noctis swallowed several times, and still some of it trickled out of the corners of his mouth, but when Ardyn pulled away, dripping on his face, Noctis whimpered.

Ardyn pat him on the head. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you.” The man went over to the wall, dimming the lights so low the surrounding furniture looked like hulking shadows. MTs filed into the room, divested of their protective armor, all pale and freckled in the low light.

He wanted Prompto so bad.

“On all-fours, Your Majesty.”

Noctis complied, opening his mouth in anticipation. They were gentle and methodical as they filled him from both ends, helping to keep him up when he could no longer support his own weight. He came a dizzying number of times, his skin tingling at the overwhelming amount of pleasure pulsing through him until he passed out from exhaustion.

**

Noctis stared at the ceiling, waiting. Today it was grilled cheese and tomato soup. Exquisite to a starving man, as always.

Seven-one-thousand… eight-one-thousand… nine-one-thousand…

It usually took about four minutes for the drug to take effect. He was on minute six. Maybe Ardyn’s experiment was a success. Noctis could feel the MTs moving beyond the locked door. They spoke to him in a garbled form of the language the Astrals used. They told him about the ship, reported on what Ardyn was doing, spoke in hushed whispers about the experiments that had been performed on their human bodies, but he’d been unable to convince one to unlock the door for him. They were too terrified of Ardyn. However, every time Noctis debased himself, drugged out of his mind, he knew he came a little bit closer to being able to force his will on them. He would need to be able to overpower Ardyn’s control if he wanted to be free. But to do that, he needed to take in more of the Starscourge, and there was only one, agonizingly slow and humiliating way Ardyn would allow him to do that.

He didn’t have the patience for that.

But if the drug wasn’t working, he had a chance to turn the tables on the Usurper.

He had a plan.

Noctis closed his eyes slowly, forcing his body to relax into the bed. It was difficult to masturbate when he knew Ardyn was watching with smug satisfaction, but it was the Usurper’s sign that the drug had taken effect.

Thankfully Ardyn didn’t even wait for him to come before entering the room, secure in the assumption that Noctis was too out of it to notice his presence. Through closed lids he could feel Ardyn near him, a churning, cold darkness, pulsing through the veins of a human shell.

Noctis let out a breathy sigh to hide the fact that he’d immediately tensed up again.

He was going to make Ardyn pay. For everything.

“Looks like you could use some help, Your Majesty.”

Noctis had, unwillingly, learned how to please Ardyn. He opened his eyes, whimpering. He had to fist his hand in the blanket to keep from punching the smug, lewd smile from the Usurper’s face. He sat up slowly, tugging on Ardyn’s belt like an addict. The filthy monster chuckled, and Noctis pressed his forehead against the man’s chest to hide the rage most likely tightening his features.

“So eager, Your Majesty,” The smug fucker drawled, “I’ve got a special treat for you today. Follow me.” He pulled away to sit down on a high-backed chair with no armrests. Noctis slid off the bed, leaving his protective blanket behind. His face burned, so he lowered his head, licking his lips and hoping the flush would be mistaken for want. He swayed over to the chair as Ardyn freed his erection. Noctis let out a slow, drawling hum.

He had a plan.

“You’d like to fuck yourself on my cock, wouldn’t you?”

Noctis murmured to keep himself from screaming, forcing himself to stare at the monster’s penis, too full of fury and shame to make eye contact.

“Ask nicely, Your Majesty.”

Noctis bit his lip, uncertain how articulate he was when he was drugged, and worried that the seething hatred would leak into his voice. “P-please,” he mumbled experimentally, “Please… inside…” he forced down bile, “me… _please_.”

Ardyn laughed. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” He gestured towards himself. “Go ahead.”

He wanted to strangle Ardyn. Stab him. Rip off his filthy dick. Kill him. _Kill him_. _KILL HIM_.

But he had a plan.

Noctis straddled Ardyn, positioning his dick at his entrance and forced himself to relax. Then he slowly sank down until Ardyn was fully inside of him, sitting on the monster’s lap. Noctis grit his teeth, preparing himself for the pain of the next part. He wrapped his legs around the back of the chair, putting his full weight on the cock inside of him.

“Wha-” Ardyn started to exclaim, but Noctis grabbed the sides of the monster’s face, smashing their open mouths together. Then he inhaled, hooking his own darkness into Ardyn’s to drag it out. The Starscourge poured into him, filling his mouth and surging down his throat, leaking from the corners of his lips. Ardyn, pinned down, struggled against him, digging nails into his bare back and bucking in the chair. Noctis held on, shifting forward to lock his legs tighter around the back of the chair. The pain paled in comparison to the sheer joy Ardyn’s distress was causing him.

Noctis dragged the myriad of daemons tainting Ardyn’s soul into himself, the cool, coin-like taste filling his senses. His fingers were wet, and he realized Ardyn was crying. He laughed against their mouths crushed together, trying to keep breathing through his nose so that he didn’t need to stop. The monster continued flailing, tearing at Noctis’ skin, but the balance had shifted, and it was no longer a struggle to keep Ardyn pinned down.

He drained him dry.

Noctis finally pulled away, wiping his lips. The monster’s eyes were large and sunken, face stained with tears and the last bits of the ichor remaining in him. His lips were cracked and bleeding.

Noctis laughed, standing off the Usurper’s limp dick, forming a black suit out of the darkness he commanded.

“H-how…?” The hush asked brokenly.

“Don’t you know?” Noctis responded casually, wiping his hand on his pants, “I’m the Fallen King.”

“Give them back,” the husk whispered, fresh tears falling.

Noctis snorted, then wrapped his fingers around the forgotten king’s neck, forming claws. “I owe you nine lifetimes of suffering,” he squeezed, “and you will endure all of it silently.” It was easy to command a physical shell once tainted by the Starscourge, so Noctis withered the husk’s vocal cords. The Usurper gargled instead of screaming, and Noctis smiled.

“You killed me,” Noctis said as shards of darkness shot out of the wooden chair, piercing the husk’s shoulders and thighs to keep him in place. Noctis wiped the tears from the husk’s face with his thumb. “You _violated_ me,” his voice shook with anger, but he felt calm. Noctis dug his claws into the base of the Usurper’s penis, dragging them slowly down the full length of the shaft, shredding it open. The discarded king thrashed, but was unable to make more than soft gasping noises.

Noctis wiped his bloody hand in the husk’s hair. “You chopped up my friends…” He picked up the discarded chosen’s left hand, pulling on his pinky until it popped out of the socket. He methodically and delightedly repeated the process with each finger.

“You brought about the darkness, over and over…” Noctis scooped out the husk’s left eye, crushing it in his hand. He ran the messy thumb along the husk’s trembling lower lip.

“You killed Luna…” Noctis started to draw a circle around the discarded king’s heart with an elongated nail. “You killed Prompto.” He completed the circle. “You killed the world,” he tore free a large chunk of flesh, watching the husk thrash futilely. Blood was everywhere. Noctis discard the mess of skin and muscle.

“You turned my friends against me,” The husk was shaking his head, one remaining eye glassy. Noctis picked up his right hand delicately, then cut it to ribbons with his claw. The husk’s eye rolled, and Noctis lightly slapped his cheek. “Ah, ah, you can’t pass out on me yet.” The former nightmare shook his head, mouthing pleas for him to stop. Noctis’ smile widened. “That’s right. You can’t hurt me anymore.”

Noctis brought a finger to his lips. “Where was I? Oh right, you destroyed _my_ kingdom,” He pressed his nail into the husk’s ear, lightly puncturing his ear drum. The husk gagged, vomiting a little.

“You made me put a hole in his heart. You made me isolate myself. I was so… so _afraid_. It was like drowning. Do you know what that feels like?” Noctis made a long scalpel of darkness, using it to puncture the husk’s lung. He watched blood bubble up over the quivering lips while the discarded king struggled to draw breath.

Noctis took a step back to admire his handiwork. He nodded, chuckling. “That looks about right.” He watched as his monster drowned to death in his own blood.

Noctis cried because he was so happy to finally be free.

**

“Please kill me!” Noctis cried out, on his knees before his friends, Luna’s body in his arms. He’d killed her because he was the Fallen King.

But even as he’d skewered her with her trident (as had happened to him before), she had put her hand over his heart and _healed_ him; her healing magic warm in the cold dark.

“N-Noct?” Prompto stuttered, “Is that you, Buddy?” He had a hand pressed to his shoulder where Noctis had stabbed him.

They had hurt him, and they deserved to be hurt in return. _No they hadn’t. That had happened to someone else._

Noctis looked past Prompto to Ignis, unconscious on the ground, claw marks tearing up his face. _Oh gods,_ he _was the reason Ignis was blind._

Gladiolus was struggling against a gelatinous darkness pinning him to the ground. Powerless. The way he should be.

“N-Noct?”

“Kill me before it takes over again!” Noctis pleaded, voice trembling. A tear rolled down his bloody cheek.

Prompto grimaced, eyes wide. “I-I can’t do that, Buddy. I’m so sorry, I can’t hurt you.”

“But I might kill you!”

Prompto knelt before him, tears leaving tracks down his soot-smeared face. “I’ll be your evil sidekick, Buddy, anything you want, just don’t tell me to hurt you. _Please_.”

“I love…” Noctis’ breathing hitched in his chest, heart burning, “I don’t want to be a supervillain.” He brought his finger to Prompto’s lips. His best friend in the whole world flinched. It hurt, but it was reasonable. “Now sleep.” Prompto crumpled to the ground. Noctis stared down at his sleeping form, sight blurry. “Gladiolus?” He asked, voice flat. He lifted the darkness constricting his Shield, and the man rolled to his feet, physical greatsword in hand; they’d had to arm themselves with conventional weapons after the Crystal abandoned him.

“Yeah, I got you.” He said grimly, walking over to where Noctis continued kneeling. He gave him a level stare.

Noctis smiled up at him, but it hurt. “Thank you.”

“I’m…” Gladiolus held his gaze, but he swallowed, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter. “I’m sorry I failed you, Your Majesty.”

Noctis shook his head. “You haven’t. I think you’re giving me another chance to make this right. Go ahead. Before it’s too late.”

His Shield’s brow furrowed, and his eyes were shining in the firelight. “I’ll… make it as painless as possible.”

“That’s more than I deserve.” Noctis laughed a little.

Impossibly, Gladiolus’ frown deepened. “Why couldn’t you trust us?”

Noctis looked down, mouth pressing into a line for a moment. “It’s hard to explain, but I let one mistake ruin lifetimes of trust. And it wasn’t even your fault.”

Gladiolus nodded, even though he couldn’t possibly understand. “Goodbye, Noct.”

Noctis smiled again. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Gladiolus swung his blade.

 

A cold, dark current pulled Noctis to the surface. He had a plan. He let the tide drag him back into the depths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah just… I’m a terrible person, please forgive me. And we’re almost done. And I’m honestly pretty sad about that. This baby has been with me for a while now, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do with myself afterwards. Thank you so much for reading and I hope this last little bit makes up for all the trauma.
> 
> I can't believe Ramuh FINALLY got to do something.


	18. Year Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis plays the game

Noctis felt awkward and out of place as they set up camp outside the husk of Insomnia. Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto were chatting, catching up on their months apart, and he had nothing to contribute. He hadn’t led the same life they had.

He was a sea of failures.

And forcing others to make sacrifices for him.

Tenebrae, his father, Insomnia, poor Luna, Ignis’ eyesight, and 10 years of darkness for the world.

He knew they were coming, but he chose to let them happen, to make it to this moment where he could possibly defeat Ardyn and do the _one_ thing he was born to do.

Maybe then Bahamut would let him rest.

“How you doin, Buddy?” Prompto asked practically under his breath.

Noctis blinked at him, startled. Ignis and Gladiolus were still chatting, setting up the cooking gear for a modest dinner. Chili would be his last meal. Again. Noctis forced a smile. “Fine. How are you?”

They had filled him in on their time apart in the camper the previous night, but Noctis could tell big chunks were left out. Probably to spare him further guilt for his long absence. He wondered, a cold pit in his stomach, if it was too late to save anyone.

Prompto frowned at him, scratching his chin fuzz. “That thing, Reflection, did you-” The blond pursed his lips, then sighed, scratching his chin again. “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

Noctis huffed, looking out into the darkness. “Of course not.”

“Bullshit,” Gladiolus interjected, snorting. Noctis’ muscles froze at the realization that his Shield had been paying attention to them.

“It’s not unreasonable,” Ignis said calmly, “It is a big task.”

“But it will be fine. We’ll be right there with you, Buddy,” Prompto nudged his shoulder.

Noctis knew they couldn’t keep that promise. No one could help him. “Thanks.”

“Will you tell us about Reflection now?” Ignis asked, easing himself into one of the chairs ringing the fire, while Prompto went to heat up the chili. The three of them had set up camp without needing to delegate responsibilities. It made Noctis feel lonely for some reason.

Noctis pursed his lips, his right hand tensing briefly. “I’m not sure what there is to tell,” he lied.

“10 years, and there’s nothing to say?” Gladiolus grumbled, plopping down in the folding chair on the other end of the ring around the crackling fire.

Noctis shrugged. “I don’t know where to start. I’ve never talked about this before.”

Ignis tilted his head. “Before?”

Noctis bit his lip, hand tensing again. “Um…”

Gladiolus leaned forward in his chair. “You can trust us, Noct.”

Noctis felt a jolt go through him, and he almost started crying. He remembered the whistle of Gladiolus’ greatsword, an unlikely symbol of that trust.

But Gladiolus had never actually saved him from himself. That was another life. “It’s not a matter of,” but weren’t all of those lives _his_ life? “I’ve done this before,” He blurted out.

For a moment his admissions was met with silence, then finally Ignis asked the obvious question, “What have you done before?” They were all focused on him, Prompto absently stirring their meal.

Noctis swallowed. What was he doing? This wouldn’t help them at all. “Everything. My entire life.”

“Like…” Prompto’s eyebrows were raised, “reincarnation?”

He remembered the way Prompto’s lips felt against his, even though that hadn’t happened. The taste of the Starscourge-infested clones. Noctis flushed, looking away. He shook his head. “No, the same life, just… different choices.”

“You mean like the movie, ‘Magic Moogle Day’?” Prompto asked.

Noctis snorted. “Kinda.”

“You know that sounds super crazy, right?” Gladiolus warned.

Noctis smiled thinly. “I can summon weapons and phase through solid objects, how is anything off the table?”

Gladiolus huffed in response. “Point.”

“Is this… part of Reflection?” Ignis asked uncertainly, clearly still grappling with the concept. He leaned back in his chair.

“Kinda. Sometimes. But lately it’s been my covenant with the Asterion.” Noctis sat down, running his shaking hands along his pants. The covenant that would always kill the childish innocence in him. It was hard not to resent the version of him that had had the foresight to take his childhood away from him.

“The whatsit?” Prompto’s brow furrowed.

“Here, look.” Noctis took off his jacket and pushed up the sleeve of his black, button-down shirt, revealing the marks of the Astrals. “I never talked about it, but my first covenant was with Nyuidj, the Asterion.”

“That’s… not an Astral, Noct,” Ignis said, leaning forward slightly. “Could you describe what you’re showing us?”

Noctis’ heart lurched. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I-”

Ignis held up his hand. “It’s ok, Noct. I’ve had plenty of time to make my peace. I just want to understand what you’re talking about.”

Gladiolus and Prompto came over to look. Prompto’s hands threaded together. “I… didn’t know the Astrals left an… actual mark. Y-You’ve been hiding them this entire time?” Prompto asked in a low voice, his lips pushing into a thin line.

Noctis cringed. “I… wasn’t hiding them, it just never came up. It didn’t matter.”

“Oh,” Prompto responded dully.

Noctis squinted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think…” He stared down at the ground, hands tightening as he struggled for a proper apology. He’d let Prompto suffer with his mark alone.

“Which one is this made up Astral?” Gladiolus interrupted loudly, grabbing Noctis’ arm.

“This one,” Noctis pointed to the brown mark, faded compared to the others running up his forearm. “It means the hidden mind. Probably.”

Gladiolus grunted. “I always thought that was just a scar from the attack. But looking at it with all the other marks, it… looks like something?” His Shield gently released his arm.

“Almost like a stylized fox, Iggy,” Prompto said, tone lighter than it had been a moment before, but he still wasn’t looking directly at Noctis.

“Yeah.” Noctis echoed.

Ignis hummed thoughtfully. “So who is this hidden Astral?”

“Bahamut introduced it as the Star that Shines Within. But it…” Noctis drew a shaky breath, right hand tightening for a moment. “…kept my memories from my other…” he looked away from his friends and into the darkness again, “…attempts for me.”

“Attempts at what?” Ignis asked, head tilting slightly.

Noctis was overwhelmed by the question, and he felt his chest tighten painfully. Then he remembered Luna’s voice, clear as a beautiful bell, and he just repeated her words. “To purge our star of its scourge.”

“Of course,” Ignis said thoughtfully, voice soft.

“That’s… it?” Prompto asked with a deep frown. His eyes were bright in the firelight.

“Wait, what?” Noctis gaped.

“Ah, I-I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Prompto waved his hands defensively, “that’s super important, but just…” His shoulders slumped, brow knitting. “Well, a whole life _just_ for right now? Doesn’t that seem… unfair?” He bit his lip.

“Un… fair…?” Noctis echoed dazedly. Prompto scratched the back of his head, nose scrunching up.

“I believe what Prompto is saying,” Ignis said smoothly, “Is that you are more than just this task. Reliving your entire life, just to defeat Ardyn, seems… inefficient.” The chamberlain threaded his hands together in his lap.

Noctis hunched over in his chair, looking away from them. “You don’t understand.” He swallowed. “There were other possibilities. I was the one that couldn’t make them work. I… I…” He drew in a shaky breath, trying to stop himself. “I tried to save everyone, but I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.” He took another deep breath, trying to steady himself before he broke down.

“Everyone?” Prompto asked, mechanically handing out bowls of chili, even though he was focused on Noctis. Noctis took his offered bowl, but set it aside, his stomach churning. “You mean Lady Luna?”

Noctis’ nails dug into his palms. He was afraid of the consequences, but his friends deserved to know the type of coward they were following into battle. The Toy King they served and might die for. “I… knew…” Noctis pursed his lips, his heart stuttering in his chest.

“Knew what?” Gladiolus prodded, his tone wary.

“Since the daemon attack, when I was little,” His voice shook. He took another steadying breath. It didn’t help the cold lump in his throat. It was almost guaranteed they would abandon him if they found out the truth. They would be disgusted with him.

Maybe that was for the best. They couldn’t save him from Ardyn, and no one needed to protect his dead body if he brought back the dawn. But their forecasted rejection was a heavy stone weighing down his heart. “Tenebrae. Insomnia. Luna’s death. The darkness,” His voice cracked. “I knew it was going to happen. I’ve been through it all before. I just-”

“Hold up,” Gladiolus said loudly, “You’re saying you knew Insomnia was going to fall, and you did _nothing_.”

“I _tried_!” Noctis choked out, “I tried so many-” a shuddering sigh escaped, his eyes stinging. “It all turned out worse.”

“Tried so many…” Prompto echoed dazedly. “Tried what?”

“Yeah, what do you mean, Noct?” Gladiolus demanded, a warning in his tone.

Noctis stared at the flickering fire. “Like I said, I’ve done this before.” He said softly.

“That doesn’t explain _anything_ ,” Gladiolus snapped.

“Gladio,” Ignis warned, “I believe what Noct is saying is that in these other lives, he tried different things to save Insomnia, but they were unsuccessful. Is that correct, Noct?”

“Yeah,” Noctis breathed out.

“Like… what?” Prompto asked softly, finally joining them by the campfire.

Noctis choked out a laugh, but a few tears escaped along with it. “Where to begin?” He looked up at the moonless sky briefly. “I… tried going into the Crystal before the Signing Ceremony. Ardyn… captured me… and… and,” Noctis swallowed the memory of Ardyn’s jagged nails digging into his hips, “killed me.” Bile stung the back of his throat. “I tried taking over the walls, but I was too crazy to maintain it.” Noctis laughed a little, wiping his eyes. “Ardyn killed everyone _but_ Prompto that time. That was my fault. I-I was s-so confused. I-I I couldn’t,” Noctis covered his face, remembering the feel of Prompto’s blood on his hands. The hole in his heart.

“Noct?” Prompto asked softly. Noctis didn’t know what the question was.

“What else, Noct?” Ignis prompted, just as softly.

Noctis uncovered his face, tugging his sleeve back down over the marks of the Astrals absently. “I tried convincing Ardyn to leave everyone alone, but he killed Luna anyway, and turned you all into daemons and you… and… you…” Noctis unsuccessfully tried to stop trembling, tears trickling down his cheeks. He remembered Prompto petting his matted hair, the scent of urine stinging his nostrils. Maybe the revenge of the boy with a hole in his heart.

“Did we hurt you?” Prompto breathed out, voice shaking.

Noctis dug his fingers into his arms, hunching over.

“This can’t be real,” Gladiolus said softly, looking to Ignis for guidance, “right?”

“Noct clearly thinks so,” Ignis observed, “And if he truly knew of future events…” Silence reigned for several seconds before the chamberlain continued, “I’m sure Noct had a very good reason-”

“I knew about your eyesight!” Noctis blurted out, belatedly wondering why he was actively trying to get them to hate him.

“And you let him go?” Gladiolus said incredulously.

“I couldn’t save Luna while I was fighting Leviathan, so she couldn’t save your sight. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Noctis wiped at his stinging eyes.

“I would have gone even if you had warned me, Noct.” Ignis admitted calmly.

“Why?” Noctis breathed.

“I am your chamberlain, Noct,” Ignis put a hand over his heart briefly, “and I take pride in my duty. Your agreement with Camelia Claustra required my presence. I am honored my sacrifice helped you accomplish your goals.”

“Ignis…”

Gladiolus grumbled, glowering. “So you gave up Insomnia for this?” He gestured towards the broken city infested with daemons.

Noctis hunched. “The closest I ever came to restoring the light was when I didn’t know Insomnia was going to fall. But Ardyn killed Prompto because… because…” Noctis swallowed. “I-I just couldn’t _take_ it. And the Crystal abandoned me.”

“But,” Prompto’s leg was jiggling, “How did you keep him from killing me this time? Was it because you came to rescue me?”

Noctis flushed. “I…” he groped for a non-embarrassing way to explain a kiss that never happened. “…removed the temptation.”

“What… do you mean,” Prompto drew out, tone wary.

Noctis bit his lip. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” Prompto said softly, causing Noctis to really look at the man he could never be with.

He had to look away, heart transmuting to cold stone. “I…”

“Ah,” Ignis intoned in his absence of an explanation, “That’s why you kept us at arm’s length. Because of Ardyn.”

“Oh…” Prompto breathed out, eyes shining. Silence settled in. Noctis stared at his hands.

“Fuck, Noct, I owe you an apology.” Gladiolus huffed.

Noctis jolted, startled by both the words and the tone. “Huh?”

Gladiolus scratched the back of his head. “This whole time I honestly thought you’d never had to make a hard decision in your entire life. When it was really the complete opposite, and I couldn’t even tell the difference.”

Noctis laughed a little. “Well at least I got something right.”

“I wish you could have shared the burden with us, Noct,” Ignis said gently.

Noctis shrugged. “It wouldn’t have helped.”

Prompto was mumbling when he spoke, “It might have helped _you_.”

“You guys did help.” Noctis smiled, the first genuine one in a long time. “You were my distraction from all this,” he gestured vaguely, “bullshit.” He laughed a little.

Prompto’s leg was jiggling again, and he was staring at the ground. “Luna too?”

Noctis’ hands tightened in his lap. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Luna was a reminder of what I was sacrificing.”

“Why couldn’t you save Luna too?” Prompto asked in a small voice. It didn’t sound like an accusation, but it stung like one.

Noctis’ bitter laugh fractured, dying almost as soon as it bubbled up. “Because she dies no matter what. Same as me.”

“You’re going to die?” Prompto’s voice rose sharply, cracking.

Noctis blinked, back straightening as he realized his mistake. He hadn’t meant to let that slip.

“Yes, what do you mean, Noct,” Ignis added, leaning forward. “I’m assuming you don’t mean in the sense that we’re all mortal.”

“Uh…” Noctis bit his lip.

“Come on, Noct,” Gladiolus prompted, tone surprisingly gentle, “What’s going to happen in there?”

Noctis licked his lips, shifting in his chair. “So… I don’t know exactly, because things change, but…” Noctis took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He hadn’t meant to tell them; he didn’t want to burden them, and he definitely didn’t want the last night he spent with them (again) to be so depressing.

And once it was done they could just continue on with their lives, finally free of their obligations to him. Finally free of his demands. Or he’d fail again, and they’d all be fucked. But he’d tried so hard, sacrificed so many people, he _had_ to succeed. Or break.

“Noct?” Prompto’s brow was furrowed, mouth turned down. He was older, like they all were.

If he failed, would they make it through another attempt? Would they survive 11 years of darkness?

Would Eos? Noctis squeezed his hands together, heart hammering. Would he come out of the Crystal one year to find he was too late?

“Noctis,” Ignis started warily, “what happens when you bring back the dawn?”

“If I succeed,” Noctis mumbled. “But either way, I don’t come out of this alive.”

“What?” Prompto exclaimed, Gladiolus echoing him. “No, no no no no.”

“My life is the last thing I need to sacrifice, to bring back the dawn.” Noctis looked at his friends. Their bodies were tensed, much like when readying for a fight. Noctis smiled, and it was the first unreserved one in a very long time. “The four of us around a campfire. How long has it been?”

For a moment no one spoke to the sudden question, then Ignis hummed. “An eternity.”

Noctis struggled to explain, but his throat was tight. He clenched his hands together, hunching. “So… yeah…” He felt his nails digging into his palms. He remembered that as well. Confusion, overwhelming despair, but his friends had been there for him. “I… um…”

“Out with it,” Gladiolus said into the silence, although his tone belied more patience than the words suggested.

Noctis wrestled with language, trying to make it work and feeling like his heart was too large in his chest to command it. “…I just…” He swallowed, hands squeezing together. “Dammit. The hell is this so hard?” He’d already confessed the worst parts of himself, and they hadn’t abandoned him. “So. I…” He looked up at them, scanning their older, more haggard faces. He couldn’t keep letting them down, when they had never failed him. “I’ve made my peace…” And he had, lifetimes ago. But the realization that these were his friends, this was his life, hit him like a speeding truck. No matter what happened, this was it for him. “Still…” his eyes stung. They had 10 years apart, but these were the men _he’d_ grown up with, his compass whether they knew it or not, “Knowing this is it, and seeing you here now…” Maybe next time he would push them too far away and he truly would be alone again. “…It’s…” Tears slid down Noctis’ cheeks. He was such a coward. “…more than I can take.” He didn’t want to be alone again.

“Yeah,” Prompto breathed out, voice shaking, “You’re damn right it is.”

“You spit it out,” Gladiolus said gently, head tilting towards the moonless sky.

“It’s good to hear,” Ignis added, leaning on his forearms, head tilted towards the flickering fire.

“Well, what can I say?” Noctis said softly. “You guys…” his heart ached with the knowledge of so many lives, “… are the best.”


	19. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning comes

Providence:  
A power greater than even that of the Six,  
because it is the combined power of all the Astrals.  
Like a forest fire, the Infernian blackened the world to make way for new growth  
The Glacian froze the heart of fire, gifting the Chosen with time to grow  
The Fulgurian cleansed the air of the Starscourge with purifying storms  
The Hydraean saw to the rebirth of the seas  
The Archaean renewed the earth made barren by the darkening of their star  
The Draconian turned back Time on those touched by the Starscourge  
And the Asterion brought dawn back to their minds.

But what is a kingdom without its kings and queen?

Noctis gasped awake as dawn made the broken throne room glow with light. He was finally free.  
It was time to rebuild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know what to say. Thank you all for going on this long-ass journey with me, for all the ways you’ve shown me this was super worth the lovely struggle. The gorgeous and dear comments, even through the darkest of moments. 
> 
> Lol, Did you know this was going to be a fix-it fic in the end? : D


End file.
